


Fool's Gold

by lovewillremember



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drug Use, Emotional Infidelity, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Infidelity, Multi, Prostitution, Stripper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-03-25 08:07:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 117,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3802984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovewillremember/pseuds/lovewillremember
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i><b>Escapism (noun):</b> the tendency to seek distraction and relief from unpleasant realities, especially by seeking entertainment or engaging in fantasy.</i> </p><p>Mikayla never intended to do this for a living, but desperate times call for desperate measures, a phrase that Harry is all too familiar with. After three years in a one-sided marriage, Harry needed an escape. He found his way to the Bliss club where he hoped to unwind, but he never intended for this to be a long-term fix. Soon enough, paid encounters turn into much more and things become complicated.</p><hr/><p>- Honorable mention for "Best Smut" in the 1D Imagination Awards Summer Edition 2015</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This is how I envision the cast, but feel free to replace people you don't like as someone else who fits the descriptions:
> 
> Mikayla Beaumont - Selena Gomez  
> Daphne Costas - Marie Avgeropoulos  
> Adora Castello - Tiffany Mays  
> Richie Hawkins - Milo Ventimiglia  
> Olivia Reynolds - Zoe Saldana  
> Themselves - Harry Styles, Niall Horan*, and Gemma Styles (as well as any other friends/family mentioned you may recognize)  
> Jasmine Styles - Lindsey Morgan  
> Shaina Hartley - Vanessa Hudgens  
> Chester Hartley - Paul Rudd  
> Penelope Beaumont - Gina Rodriguez  
> Owen Langley - Dougie Poynter
> 
> * As of right now, I don’t have plans of including the other guys in the story, but that could change in the future.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** This story contains mature themes, including but not limited to stripping, abuse, drug use, infidelity/cheating, and talk of cancer and human trafficking. If these subjects are in any way triggering for you, I would not recommend reading any further.

One year.

It's been 365 days since I've last seen him. 365 days since I've last stared into those green eyes of his, since I've heard his voice begging me to stay.

Why didn't I stay?

"Please don't go," he pleaded, voice cracking. Throughout our relationship--if you could really even call it that--I'd never seen him this emotional, over anything. Yet there I was, staring at a broken man whose facade had finally fallen, and I didn't know what else to do.

So I ran.

But I guess that’s not the beginning of the story, is it? Nor is it the end, but I should go back to the start, as all stories do.

My name is Mikayla Beaumont. I'm 22 years old and I grew up in Brooklyn, New York. I’m going to tell you the story of how I met a boy with emerald eyes who turned my life upside down.

It all started when I was 16 years old. I had come home from school one day to find my mother desperately trying to cover up the fact that she’d been crying only moments before my arrival. For as long as I can remember, it’s always been me and her against the world. We were by no means well off--in fact, there were many months where we had to choose between rent and food in our bellies--but we were rich in love.

My mom had always done as much as she could to provide me with a life that was worthy of a daughter she claimed to be one of the most capable little girls she’d ever met and even if I wanted to protest, say it was only a mother’s natural bias to think so highly of her child, my marks in school always supported her statement. She never wanted me to have less of a childhood, and for that she worked three separate jobs, just to bring in enough to keep a roof over my head and send me to a good school. I never knew the full weight of the burdens she held being a single mother living in Brooklyn, but I tried to always show my appreciation for doing my absolute best in school and bring home the grades to show that the hard work she put in wasn’t taken for granted.

She never wanted me to know when she was struggling and this time was no exception, though I later found the reason for her tears tucked away in the back of the designated junk drawer in the kitchen; a letter addressed to Penelope Beaumont from New York Methodist Hospital.

My mom had cancer.

Hodgkin’s lymphoma, to be more specific. A cancer that affected the immune system and made it harder for her to fight off infections. For someone who primarily worked as a housekeeper at a ritzy hotel in Manhattan where businessmen from all over could track in whatever illnesses they had with them, it wasn’t ideal. Then again, it’s never ideal. Especially not when she’s the only family I’ve ever known. I couldn’t lose her.

I had never really noticed until then how weak she had grown over the past year--she had grown very good at hiding how miserable she felt day in and day out, a trait that I also seemed to inherit--and now it all made sense. I started to look for work as soon as I could, anything that would help me bring in some money to take the load off of my mother while she tried to set aside money to pay for the treatment that doctors recommended she begin immediately. I was willing to do anything, as long as it meant I would be able to help my mom like she had done so many times in the past for me. Even if it meant lying about my age.

Before I looked anywhere else, I started picking up the shifts my mom had at the diner at the end of the block. The staff there were a second family to us, and I'd spent many nights there while my mother was working, doing homework and eavesdropping on the latest neighborhood gossip. Waitressing only brought in so much money though when people were poor tippers and after a year, I was on the hunt again.

I was 17, but I’d always been told I looked older than I was through various means. My age certainly didn't stop men from catcalling me as I walked down the street, so I used that to my advantage when I found a "for hire" sign outside of a seedy strip club on the way home from school one day.

The navy blue skirt and thigh high stockings of my school uniform probably didn't hurt my chances either, all eyes turning to me as I sauntered in with faux confidence, holding the charade up long enough to meet the owner of the Bliss club.

His name was Richard Hawkins, but he went by Richie and refused to answer to anything else. Somehow, he could see through my facade, but he still gave me a job at the club to help him with his finances and he took me under his wing. "You'll be 18 in a few months, no one has to know but us," he'd always say, the smirk on his face evident in his tone. In hindsight, I should've seen it as a red flag, but I didn't think anything of it at the time. For someone who was as book smart as I was, I certainly didn't have much common sense. I jumped at the chance, eager to bring in more money to help my mom. I'd do anything for her.

Richie took a vested interest in me and I quickly became his pet project, almost a prized possession. His compliments saccharine and cloying, I tried to bite my tongue when he would get a little too handsy for my liking. He was paying me, after all. I could handle it, as long as I needed to do so.

I spent more of my time there after school than anywhere else, especially over the summer. I'd graduated from school with the second highest grades in my class, but I had no intentions of pursuing higher education at that point in my life because I wanted to be there for my mom. When I wasn't there, I was at the diner. I was constantly working to make up for the work my mom couldn't manage as she progressed through treatment, but it felt like I barely got to see her. I did get to know the girls who worked there very well, though. They taught me tricks on how they performed, and I was in awe at the amount of strength it took for them to pull themselves up on the pole and do what they did. I learned a lot more about life from them, about how they came to work here, and what they aspired to do beyond the four walls of the club. Many of us shared similar experiences with single parents who lived paycheck to paycheck. It was nice being able to open up to someone about everything that I'd gone through. I'd never really had friends before. None that stuck around for very long, anyway. I didn't feel so alone anymore.

There was also the house mother, Olivia, who became a second mother to me very quickly. She was gifted with flawlessly smooth mocha-colored skin, and if I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought she was an angel. Though she was kind and had a nurturing air about her most times, she had fierce eyes and an equally matched temper that meant business and nobody dared to cross her when she was on a mission. Her naturally wavy black hair was mid-length and framed her face, and I had always wondered how she managed to keep it so nice with the amount of heat in the club most nights (she later taught me the tricks of how to tame unruly curls, which I still use to this day). Considering Richie’s less than savory personality, Olivia was there to even him out and make sure that the girls weren’t messed with while they were on the job. After getting to know her, I couldn’t imagine anybody else better suited for the position.

She had worked as a dancer when she was younger and knew what it was like to work in an industry where men would try to test their boundaries, so I learned lessons in how business and empathy could work hand in hand. She cared for the girls, many of whom didn’t have as strong of a relationship with their parents as I had with my mom; she was constantly bringing in dinner for the girls so they wouldn’t go hungry, helping girls with their makeup and hair, offering a shoulder to cry on whenever it was needed, and so much more. Knowing that these girls had someone with a maternal instinct and a no-nonsense attitude made me feel better about working there.

I became close friends with two of the girls in particular, Daphne and Adora. I looked up to them like the sisters I never had--people I aspired to be, in one way or another. It wasn't easy at first though, not with Daphne. I tagged along behind them and practically became their shadows, something I'm pretty sure frustrated the brunette at first. Adora would always ask to play dress up with me and do my makeup when she wasn't performing, while Daphne would barely acknowledge me save to remind me to eat when she'd notice I hadn't.

I remember at first being envious of Daphne's beauty; despite only being a year older than me, she was tall and thin, her auburn hair reaching mid way down her back, with hazel eyes and olive skin. She was harder to read than the eldest of the three of us, but I could tell she had a maternal instinct tucked away behind the stoic exterior. It would come out at random times and catch us off guard, giving us a glimpse into the hidden caring nature she held. She tried not to let us in too close for awhile, something I was all too familiar with. I saw a lot of myself in Daphne and it only made me want to have her open up to me more.

It took weeks before we finally were able to hold conversations, with Adora's help as the mediator. She started to invite us over for sleepovers and at first Daphne would decline, but eventually the whining got to her and she showed up one night in mid-July with a bag of overnight clothes and a pair of duck slippers on her feet. These nights staying up and watching Disney films became somewhat of a regular occurrence. At least, whenever their work schedules would allow.

As I learned more about her story over fruity drinks and late night spaghetti dinners in Adora's one bedroom apartment, I came to also covet her perseverance and fortitude.

Daphne was from Greece, but she found her way to America when she was young due to human sex trafficking. She was only 14 at the time and though she had been separated from her mother and younger brother, it never stopped her from fighting to break free from it. She ended up in New York City on her own after running and Richie took her in, much like he had with me. She spoke of someday returning to Europe in hopes of finding her family, so she saved every penny that she could and kept it hidden. She was strong, resilient, and able to hold her own against any man who stepped out of line, but I could tell by the hollowness of her eyes that she'd never be able to forget the things she'd been through. Maybe that's why she turned to drugs, cocaine being the drug of choice most nights.

By comparison, Adora was on the opposite end of the spectrum. She had large, round blue eyes and jet black hair accentuated by her pale skin. She often had bows in her hair and an affinity for 60's aesthetic clothing, but you could never not smile when she walked into the room. She was sunshine personified. In all honesty, she could've passed off as a high schooler if it weren't for her skin being littered with tattoos, though many of them were princess themed.

She had moved to the city from upstate when her parents divorced, leaving her and her older brother to choose between staying in the state with their mother or moving to Miami with their father. She chose to stay here, contrary to her brother's wish--I came to find out they were always incredibly close, and they'd Skype every other night for hours as if they had never left each other's side--and started pursuing a degree in graphic design and animation at an arts college in Manhattan when the time came.

She showed me some of her work one night before Daphne started joining us at our slumber parties and I was in awe at the amount of talent she possessed. She showed me adorable caricatures of characters she'd created for film projects in class (my favorite was a squirrel named Earl; I think it was because of the name and his exaggerate bucked teeth), intricate drawings of the city skyline and portraits she had done of friends from back home or people she'd see out in the park. She liked to go there on her days off and people watch, sketching whatever or whomever caught her interest. "It makes for great art," she told me with a matter-of-fact nod, and I couldn't agree more. I'd always loved writing, and people watching both at the club and the diner became somewhat of a pastime for me as well.

It turned out that she had designed most of her own tattoos and even did some of the art on the walls in the club, including the sensual image of a woman lounging in a martini glass by the bar. It was quite an impressive resume to someone like me who could hardly even manage a legible doodle. She loved art, painting in particular, and wanted to work for Disney or Pixar in the future as an animator. I encouraged it because I didn't want to see her let her talents to to waste.

These two girls were my best friends, mentors, and confidants. Whenever I had a struggle or a triumph, I knew that I could go to them and they would cry or celebrate along with me. They supported me in everything I spoke of in terms of my future novel, though I hadn't exactly decided then what to write about. This was especially true when I became of age and was finally allowed to do what they did.

The club celebrated my 18th birthday that August with a huge party and my big stage debut. I'd been practicing for a long time with the girls and had gotten the hang of things, but that hadn't stopped me from growing nervous when all eyes had turned to me. All of the girls had stage names--Daphne went by her middle name of Odessa and Adora went by Snow, after her favorite Disney princess--and while it wasn't nearly as original as some of the others, I became known to the patrons as Mikki Love.

The dancing came with a price tag though, as I came to learn. A few months later and I had become one of the club's hottest commodities. Maybe it was because I was one of the youngest performers there and these men had a strong craving for fresh meat, but whatever it was, they ate up my stage presence and hungered for more. Richie noticed and took advantage of my popularity, and he began offering new services around the club with me and a few of the other girls.

It started off in secret; Richie would encourage a few extra favors here and there during lap dances and the walk across the room. The word spread quickly and soon enough Olivia found out. I could hear the two arguing in his office one afternoon and it got so bad that it disrupted the flow of the club when the blowout got more intense. She wanted to keep us from having to sell ourselves in order to make him more money, but since she refused to put her more girls in jeopardy, she eventually bit her tongue. I could tell it ate her up inside to have to watch him exploit us, but she knew that if she left, things would only get worse. The only thing she could do was be there for us when we needed care after the fact.

Rooms were sectioned off on the floor above the club and one was designated for each of us to perform private shows for paying customers. Unlike downstairs, there were no rules. As long as they paid the fee, the men could get whatever they wanted from us. I hadn't expected to lose my virginity to a 30-something-year-old businessman, but the private rooms brought in more money on top of the tips and that was what I was here for, right? Anything to help my mom.

I took the necessary precautions I had to in keeping all of this a secret from her. I knew she would be devastated to know what I was doing to myself for her sake. I told her I had found a second job in the city, a modeling job, and she had yet to find out that that wasn't the case. I didn't know how long I could keep up the charade, but I would for as long as I needed to. I hated lying to her.

The treatment was successful and she'd fallen into remission, but I still kept my job at the club. I couldn't quit, not when Richie and the girls needed me to be there. Plus, having extra money saved up meant that I could do more nice things for my mom and myself, treating her to things that she had never gotten to do since I was born. She was young when she had me and there was always a small pang of guilt in me whenever I thought about how much she'd given up to keep me.

I didn't have a father -- or if I did, I had no idea where he was. Not once did my mother ever talk about him unless I asked questions, but as I grew older, my curiosity about the man had weakened. I knew he had been an entrepreneur in his twenties who had been staying in the hotel mom worked at and the two met and fell for each other. It was a whirlwind romance and it was kept a secret because of my mother being 16 at the time it all happened. He knew he could lose the respect of his peers if anyone were to find out, which is why my mother quit working there when she found out she was pregnant with his child. That was the last time she'd seen him and apparently the last time she'd heard from him either, and despite me asking for a name, she would always change the subject. Part of me wondered why she didn't want me to know more about him, the other part told me to stop thinking about it because I had all I needed, but mostly I wanted answers. Why hadn't he tried to find her? To find me? Did he even know I existed?

I'm 21 years old now and though my life had improved in some regards, it still felt as though something were missing. I had my mom who was healthier than she'd been in a few years, two jobs, enough money set aside to spoil myself on occasion, and I had a small family here at the club.

But everything changed the night his piercing green eyes met mine.


	2. Green-Eyed Stranger

"Mikki!"

"Yeah?" Hearing my name pulled me from my trance and I turned around to see Adora's blue doe eyes staring at me, head tilting to the side ever so slightly. It was weird how she'd manage to look like a young girl so easily, but then again the men who frequented the club weren't exactly the high class type and were probably into that sort of thing. I could only imagine the types of customers she got in her room.

"You okay, Mikki Mouse? You look like you saw a ghost or something," the girl cooed and I sent her a small smile, shaking my head.

"I'm fine, there's just... There's this guy out there and he caught my eye, that's all," I explained.

Trying to downplay the situation didn't work as the girl squealed, pushing her way beside me and glancing out past the backstage door to scan the audience.

"Where is he?" She whispered. It was hard to believe she couldn't spot him as easily as I did, but I was quickly reminded we shared different taste in men -- though, admittedly, I didn't have much experience with any outside these four walls.

"The young one over by the bar, with the tattoos?" I said, carefully motioning in the direction I was looking. I didn't want to call too much attention to us for fear of him noticing, but it was hard not to stare at the definition in his jawline and his broad shoulders as he turned to order another drink from the bar. He hardly looked a day over 21, and that fact alone made me wonder how he'd found his way into this hole-in-the-wall club where dreams went to die.

"Oh, him? He's been here a few nights before. Never seemed very interested though," she commented, turning on her heel and heading back towards the dressing room, and I quickly followed behind.

"Has he?" I asked. I was curious to learn more about this mystery man, but something told me he hadn't become a regular patron like many of the others who were seated close to the stage, eyes practically boggling out of their heads as they watched Lola dancing. "Do you know a name or anything?"

"Nope. Don't think he's been upstairs yet, but tonight could be the night. You never know," she crooned with a wag of her finger and a wink, stepping through the doorway.

The dressing room was lined with vanity mirrors, looking similar to those one would find backstage at a theatre. It seemed fitting considering we were all putting on an act for the men outside. Only two other people occupied the space aside from us, Daphne and a new girl whose name I'd learned was Cynthia, and I greeted both quickly before turning my attention back to the girl who was sat in front of her station, powdering her nose.

"Dory," I began, pulling up a seat beside her and watching for a moment while I tried gathering my scattered thoughts. "Why do you think tonight would be any different than the other nights he's been here?"

The girl set the compact down and turned to look at me, as if the answer were plastered across her forehead and it were obvious that I was missing the point. Was I?

"Becaaause this is the first night that he's been here when you've been working, silly," she explained with a shake of her head. "We all know you're the club's biggest star right now. It's no doubt he's probably here to see you shake what your mama gave you."

My brow furrowed and I glanced over towards the other two, hoping one of them could corroborate her story, but both seemed more focused on other things, so it was futile.

"I don't stand out much compared to a lot of the girls here," I said, shrugging. I never did understand Richie's fascination with me, or why he promoted me more so than many of the other girls who had been here longer than I had. Maybe it was because I was fresher meat or because my private room income seemed to be steady, but whatever it was, it was beyond me. "Maybe he'll go for someone else, like Daph."

"Who are you two even talking about?" The brunette asked and I smiled a bit; she always had a habit of eavesdropping and pretending like a conversation didn't interest her until it became relevant to her.

"There's this guy at the bar that Mikki's totally got the hots for," Adora said smugly, looking to Daphne, whose face grew a smirk quickly.

"Is that so? And he's been here before?"

"According to Dory, yeah," I said, looking between the two.

"Is it that curly-haired kid that lingers in the background like a creep?"

"Daphne!"

"What?" She laughed. "He's always lurking in the shadows and never tips, I think that's creep material right there. I don't get up there and take off my clothes because I enjoy it, the least he can do is fork over a few bucks."

I rolled my eyes, but hearing her actually joking around was a nice change from the usual. “Maybe he’s only here for the drinks. He was sitting at the bar, after all.”

“If he only wanted alcohol, I don’t see why he’d come here,” Daphne replied with a shrug, turning back towards the mirror to finish contouring her face. “You have to pay an entrance fee and you know Richie jacks up the prices. He’d be better going to a liquor store and going home. Save himself some money.”

“Mhm, and that’s why we think that he’s waiting for something,” Adora concluded the other girl’s thought for her, rolling her hair up into curlers since it had lost its bounce about an hour ago. A giggle fell past her lips before she felt the need to insert an addendum. “Or some _one_.”

“I’ll bet you $20 he’s going to sit there and drink then leave like he has every other night,” I said, trying to brush off the comment, though the idea did get me thinking. He had shown up the past few nights that I had been working over at the diner instead of here, so… what if he actually was waiting for me to perform?

That sounded conceited.

“You’re on. I could always use an extra $20,” Daphne said with a grin, looking over towards us again with a now perfectly sculpted face. I always wondered how she managed to do that with the cheap makeup that we were given at the club, but I didn’t have time to ask her to touch mine up before Olivia started calling my name.

Shaking my head, I stood up from my seat. “I’ll see you two later.”

“Mikki Mouse, are we still on for our breakfast for dinner tomorrow?” Adora’s big eyes watched me as I made my way over towards the door. The thought of spending some quality time with the girls tomorrow evening brought a smile to my face and I nodded before I took my leave, heading towards the stage.

Olivia smiled as I came around the corner and it brought a similar one to my face. I made my way over, wrapping my arms around her and giving her a light squeeze. It was always weird not seeing her for a few days, but I never got the chance to spend time with her outside of the club like I did with Daphne and Adora. She had a family of her own--a young daughter named Eden who lived with her grandmother--so when she wasn’t at the club, she was there, getting in as much time as she could. She never delved into it much, but with the few things I knew, it seemed she’d lost custody of the girl at some point and was granted visitation rights, but if there was one thing that was plain to see it was that she loved her daughter more than anything. She proudly wore a heart-shaped locket around her neck with a picture of the two inside and would show it off whenever she could to the new girls that filtered in and out of the club almost weekly.

“How was your time off? You better have rested up, I know you were getting really tired,” she asked, hand rubbing my back before she pulled away.

“It was good. Much needed,” I laughed, though I didn’t address the sleep question. There wasn’t much I could do to fight off the troubles I had with it. I’d always struggled with sporadic night terrors that would come up during times of high stress, so I’d keep myself up to avoid them some nights. It didn’t help solve the problem -- if anything, it made it worse -- but it helped me to avoid them, and in the moment, that was just as good a solution as any.

Shaking her head, she smiled fondly at me. “I’ll get you a week off one of these days so you can actually get it together. Show them your best moves tonight, Lolita.”

I couldn't help the smile that came to my face. Olivia had called me Lolita almost since day one. It was the first nickname I had aside from Mikki. Considering how I got my start at the club, the name was quite fitting.

We parted ways and I hurried out from the back, moving to just off stage, waiting for the music to begin.

Every night, I’d start out my shift by getting everyone’s attention with a dance on the center stage. From there, I’d make my way upstairs and Olivia would screen the men who came up to my room to make sure none of them had any bad intentions or any STDs; another reason why I was grateful for the woman and always would be indebted to her.

Despite the fact that I’d been doing this for years, I always got nervous before each performance. I think it was the underlying fear that I would walk out and someone I went to high school with or who stopped into the diner would recognize me, but tonight I knew that the anxious feeling I had was for other reasons. One reason, really.

And that reason was staring intently at me the moment I stepped out on stage.

_“Give it up for Mikki Love!”_

That was my cue.

As I made my way out onto stage, the beginning of ‘Feels Like Vegas’ by Tinashe started to play over the PA system. It was one of my favorite songs to open with because the first minute built up the anticipation until the beat picked up, but even then it wasn’t so distracting to detract from attention on the sensual dancing.

All eyes were on me by the time the show truly got under way. Though there were a bunch of men hollering my name tonight, I was only dancing for one person and the essence of a smirk on his lips once our eyes locked sent a shiver down my spine.

My individual set was always about 20 to 30 minutes long, and then I would be joined by others on the other two stages. Normally, I requested Adora and Daphne, and we became known for our routine to ‘Dance For You’ by Beyonce this past year, so it was always a fun way to end the night before we all parted ways to the more dreaded part of the night.

VIP rooms.

While most of the other girls would simply travel the floor and solicit the men for lap dances or men to join them in their champagne rooms for private dances, a few select veterans of the club -- myself included -- had private rooms on the second level of the club where we were paid to do whatever the customer wanted. Nothing was off limits there, unlike down here. Normally I would have protested, but I needed the money. Anything for my mom.

It was more for the high paying customers, Richie would remind us, the ones willing to fork over money to live out their fantasies. The girls and I preferred to call them desperate. As long as they paid, these men got what they wanted from us. It didn’t matter what they looked like or what their stories were; it kept them coming back and that’s what Richie liked.

I gathered the tips that had been given to me throughout the dances, whether they were stuck into my g-string or tossed onto the stage before heading off backstage where Richie was waiting for me with a smirk on his face.

“There’s my girl,” he greeted, his hands slipping directly to my hips to pull me in close then slowly making their way back towards my bare bottom, hands giving it a decent squeeze.

It was like this nearly every night when I’d finished a show. He claimed it was a way to congratulate me, but it felt more like a way to remind me he thought I belonged to him. I suppose in a way, I did. My livelihood was in his hands and if he wanted to, he could take more money from me than what he already did. I got to keep the full amount of my tips, but about 25% of the money I made in VIP rooms for one night went to him and another 10% to tip Olivia, the DJ, bartender, and bouncers. It differed for each of the girls. Considering I tended to make the most out of all of them through tips, he took the most from me. I couldn’t complain too much because at the end of the night I still had money and that’s all that mattered to me.

“You were great tonight,” he spoke low, leaning in and catching my lips in a kiss. I returned it reluctantly because I didn’t have much choice, but he never seemed to notice the hesitation -- or if he did, he was really good at disregarding it. "You're gonna make me more money tonight, right?"

The question almost seemed condescending, but that was how he was. He only cared about three things: getting off, getting high, and getting rich.

"I always do, don't I?" My response would've been taken as a jab back had it not been for the playful grin I put on for him. He always ate it up and as he leaned in, lips pressing to the space where my neck met my jaw, I heard him murmur something I wasn't expecting to hear at all.

"You've got a new customer tonight."

"What do you mean?" I asked, brows furrowed. I closed my eyes and bit on my lip when I felt him bite at the skin to leave some kind of mark to let anyone else who had me tonight know not to get too personal, but he pulled away and stood up properly so he could look me over once he was finished.

"We've got some new kids in here and I want you to show 'em a good time. I'll send 'em up your way in a bit; you need to get cleaned up."

I pursed my lips at the comment and simply nodded before heading back to the dressing room to touch up my makeup. It wasn't like he was wrong to say it. The thin layer of sweat that coated my skin had no doubt rid my face of some of the foundation, so a touch up couldn't hurt.

As I was wiping myself down with a towel, I heard a light knock and looked over to see Olivia smiling softly at me.

"Hey," I greeted, though my voice was quieter than I'd intended. To the outside world, I'd always managed to hide my feelings relatively well, but the girls here knew me too well to know when something was getting to me.

"Hey. Let me help," she insisted, moving into the room and motioning for me to take a seat. I obliged and watched as she rummaged through my things to grab my makeup and she began to re-apply what was needed. She handled me with care, gently tipping my face where it needed to be and giving me instructions in that motherly tone. "You were absolutely stunning tonight, Lolita."

"Thanks, Liv," I said with a soft smile, eyes closed while she did a smokey eye for me.

There was a moment of pause, almost as if she wasn't sure what to say next or she was hesitating on bringing something up, but with a sigh she began to speak once more. "You really shouldn't let Richie touch you the way he does. I can see the way you look when he does it."

Good old Olivia, always looking out for me.

"I know," I said simply. "But I need the money."

"You always say that. You know you're capable of so much more than what this life has to offer you. All of you are. That scumbag is lucky to have you girls here for him, he shouldn't use you the way he does."

It was clear in her tone and the way she snapped the eyeshadow pallette shut that this was a subject that she was passionate about. I opened my eyes to look at her, reaching my hand out to take hers and I gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"He's not doing anything to me that I'm not letting him," I replied, though the frown lines appearing in her face made it clear it wasn't something she wanted to hear. "I'll be fine, Livvy. Especially since I've got you here."

She placed her slender fingers over top of mine and I smiled more at the way she stroked her thumb along the back of my hand. "If you need anything, you know I'm always here for you."

"I know. That's why I stay."

Standing from my seat, I leaned in and pecked her cheek before I made my way to my VIP room. I was going to spend the majority of my shift in here, like I always did, so I had ended up customizing it to where it felt like it was really mine. It wasn't much more than a few fairy lights, curtains, and candles, but with the blue overhead lights dimmed, it made the wall resemble the night sky and helped me to allow my mind to escape to somewhere else.

I'd gotten changed into a small tartan skirt and tight white blouse, run a comb through my hair, and was lighting the last of the candles around the room when I heard a knock on the door. Making my way over, I put on my mask of confidence and opened the door, only to come face-to-chest with a rather large man with broad shoulders.

Looking up, I met the face of the green-eyed stranger who had been sitting at the bar tonight, and I swallowed hard as I looked over his face.

Looks like I was out $20.


	3. Wicked Games

I'm not sure how long I stood there wide eyed and slack-jawed, but it was long enough for him to take notice of my odd behavior. The way his brows raised on his forehead and a small dimple pressed into his cheek through his grin only distracted me more, if that were even possible at this point, until he decided to break the silence shared between us.

"Can I come in, or should I go?" He asked followed by a low chuckle. The question caught me off guard, but it also brought me back to reality and I realized how rude I was being. He must've been uncomfortable with my staring, but could he blame me? He'd done the same for the past half hour. I couldn't find anything that seemed appropriate enough to say after my poor first impression, so I merely nodded and stepped back to allow him inside.

Hearing his voice for the first time was a strange experience. I think it was because I'd expected something different -- though what it was that I'd expected, I don't think I could really even say -- but the baritone register it hit, melodic undertones, and lull of some kind of accent were a pleasant surprise, to say the very least. A much needed change from many of the men who came in here.

I watched as he walked into the room, only breaking my gaze long enough to flip the sign to occupied, close, and lock the door behind him. Everybody knew not to interrupt when we had customers, but one could never be too careful. Besides, this was my first encounter with the mystery bar man and could very well be my last, if I didn't play my cards right.

"Sorry for that," I finally managed, clearing my throat as I turned to face the man. He was now seated on the sofa across the room, legs far apart, hands folded together in his lap, and green eyes on me. It made me want to curl in on myself, but I had a job to do and I couldn't clam up now. "Let's just say that you showing up means I lost $20."

He raised a brow, though that barely there smirk from earlier crept onto his face once more. "Not sure if I should be flattered you're betting on me or if I should be worried you're stalking me."

"The girls mentioned that you'd been here a few times and never come up, but they said you would tonight and I doubted it so they made a bet... If that makes it any less creepy, though it sounds even worse now that I've said it out loud." I wasn't off to a good start, that's for sure.

"A bit, yeah," he chuckled again and I felt the shiver running down my spine as my back pressed against the door. "Though now I know that you were actually staring at me while you were up there tonight and I wasn't imagining it, so that's reassuring."

Swallowing hard, I licked my lips before proceeding further into the room. The sound of my heels clicking against the hard floor helped to bring back some of the confidence I had before opening the door and I stopped in front of him, leaning forward with my hands resting on the top of the couch on either side of his head. "What can I do you for tonight, handsome?"

Being this close gave me a chance to really take in his features and I was not disappointed. Though for the most part he looked like any other twenty-something year old you'd see on the street, there was something that set him apart and I couldn't quite place my finger on it -- figuratively speaking. I brought one hand up and lightly traced my finger along the sharp line of his jaw, admiring the flecks of gold that outlined his pupils, the natural pink shade of his lips, and the way his dark hair framed his face, which made it all come together in an almost perfect way.

"Uh," he began, and I noticed his gaze flicker from my face down to look at my chest. Leaning forward the way I was did give him an optimal view of my cleavage, and if that wasn't enough to get him interested, then I would have to pull out more tricks. "I've never actually done something like this before."

I smiled and shifted so that I could sit myself down onto his lap, his hands moving to accommodate my new position. "Should I give you a run down then?" He nodded with an almost sheepish grin. "There aren't many don'ts, so we'll go over those instead. No grabbing during a lap dance because it keeps me from dancing, if that's all you're here for." I paused to gauge his reaction and figure out why he'd come up to see me in the first place -- if Richie had sent him up personally like he said he was going to, there was no doubt in my mind that he had hyped up the idea of getting more personal with the dancers to him -- but he only nodded in acknowledgement, so I continued. "If you want more than that, we'll have to discuss what you're in to. A little roughness is okay, but nothing too extreme. And no kissing on the lips."

"No kissing?" He raised a brow. He looked amused, almost like he was wondering what prompted that particular rule, and the dimple pressing into his cheek was enough to make me give in to his curiosity.

"It's too personal," I said simply. "You never know if someone will grow too attached afterwards." I'd heard horror stories from other girls who had friends that did extras long before we started to do them at the club, stories of men who would become obsessed with the girls after getting too intimate with them. It was a risk in this business regardless, but I took as many precautions as I could.

"Ah, okay. Got it," he replied with a nod.

Smiling, he placed his hand down onto my thigh and it wasn't until then I noticed how big they were. My mind immediately wandered to images of his hands running through my hair, over my torso, across my chest, between my thighs, and I had to cross my legs to keep myself from getting too excited too quickly. For all I knew, he could only want a dance and I'd be left to deal with the effects myself.

"So," My hand slipped up into his curls, navigating my fingers carefully them. "Pick your poison."

"I'm Harry, by the way."

Was he stalling?

"Hi Harry," I replied slowly, looking him over. He seemed receptive, so why was it he kept avoiding the answer? "Do you want anything or should I not waste my time and let someone else in instead?"

"Oh, no no! I'm sorry," he quickly apologized, brow furrowed in thought. "Could I... Could I just get a lap dance, please?"

The answer was disappointing, to say the least. I made the least money off of lap dances, but at least it meant I'd get something, so I couldn't really complain. His hesitation made it clear that he didn't really know what he wanted, but I wasn't going to push.

Standing from his lap, I made my way over to the iPod speakers I had on a tiny desk across the room, scrolling to find my playlist. When I was alone with a client, I preferred dancing to slower and more sensual songs than what the DJ tended to play downstairs. It made it more fun to watch as the men sat with bated breath, watching and wanting desperately to touch. If anything, maybe he'd change his mind about only wanting the lap dance and indulge in more.

The beat of the first song began to play and I closed my eyes, feeling the music as I began to sway. I stepped away from the desk and moved back towards the center of the room. I watched him relax against the back of the couch, hands folded in his lap once more. I wasn't sure why he seemed so closed up, but it was my intention to fix that. Now that we were alone it made no difference if I only focused on him.

Untying the bottom of the white blouse, the only thing that was really holding it together, I teased by barely opening it and pushing my breasts together to give the illusion they were bigger than they really were, not that they were small by any means. I caught sight of his teeth pressing down onto his lip and that spurred me on more, the top coming fully open and sliding off my shoulders.

Now that my top half was bare, I noticed that he began to avert his gaze, eyes darting around the room as if trying to find anything else to focus on other than my half naked body standing in front of him, and I only grew more confused and slightly frustrated. He wasn't kidding when he said it was his first time. He looked like he was fidgeting with something on his finger and when I looked, a glint of light came off of something metallic trapped between his thumb and forefinger.

Was that a ring?

I wanted to get a closer look and make sure my eyes weren't deceiving me. A guy this young couldn't possibly be married already... Could he? Walking over to him, I turned around and then lowered myself into his lap, grinding my hips down towards his with my hands lifted above my head. If anything would get his attention, that would. I glanced over my shoulder to find his hands, but they were rested in his torso now that his lap was occupied and that made it hard to see from my vantage point. That is until he pulled it off his finger and went to tuck it away into his pocket.

I couldn't tell for sure what the piece of jewelry looked like, but it had been on his left ring finger, which left no options to choose from other than the obvious. He was married. He was just like all the other middle-aged, married men that came into the club with their wives waiting for them to come home at night. I wanted to stop, but I knew I couldn't despite the feeling of a rock settling into the pit of my stomach. I'd have to deal with it and pretend like I never saw anything if I wanted to get my money.

I heard him take in a quick breath through his nose and normally I would've felt confident about being able to have this effect on him, but everything about this felt wrong now. I don't know why. It's not like this was really cheating, right? He hadn't asked for anything other than a lap dance like many other men would have, so I was simply overreacting. Yeah, that was it. This was fine. As long as we didn't cross that boundary, we'd be fine.

Swallowing hard, I swiveled my hips on the way back to standing and turned to face him, reaching down to grab his hands and bring them towards the zipper on the side of my short skirt. My voice was low as I spoke, his proximity to my chest making it less necessary to be loud. "Mind taking care of this for me?"

He looked shocked, as if he didn't know for sure if he was allowed to do it, but he slowly nodded after a moment of searching my face, his fingers working carefully to undo the small button that held the clasp at the top closed, then tugging the zipper downward. The material loosened around my hips and I almost took over before I heard him speak up.

"May I, uh..?." He left the question open, and I assumed it was because he knew I'd figure out what he was implying and I couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle and smile, nodding my head in giving permission. He was being much more respectful than many of the men who sat in his same position in the past. It was a breath of fresh air.

Without breaking eye contact, he watched me while slipping the fabric off of my hips and down my tanned legs. It was my turn to bite my lip and I used his shoulders for balance to step out of the skirt. I was left standing only in my black panties and my heels, prepared to go back to my dance, when he said something that caught me off guard.

"You're too pretty to be doing this."

His words were quiet and I almost missed them in the transition between songs, but the words were unmistakable. Was he going to be one of those guys that tried to save me from this life? Because I really did not need a lecture from someone who knew nothing about my life.

"And you're too young to be in here, resorting to strippers to escape whatever your marital troubles are," I replied, tilting my head to the side as I looked down at him. "Did you think I didn't notice the ring on your finger?"

"You saw that, huh?" He asked, a grimace coming to his face.

I simply nodded and he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. What happened next, I certainly wasn't expecting.

"I wasn't lying when I said this was my first time," he began, "I'm not one of those guys who's always out every night, cheating on his wife or something. We... We got married right out of college before heading off to uni and things have changed since then. We've changed, or I've changed... I dunno."

With the momentum of the dance being lost, I found myself walking across the room, going to turn off the music. I tried to figure out what I was supposed to do in this situation. He didn't have to explain anything to me about his relationship or try to justify his reasoning for being on my couch, but now that he had, I couldn't ignore it. He seemed genuine enough in what he'd said, enough to where I wanted to help him, but I didn't know how to do that. I had no experience when it came to relationships save for a girlfriend I had in junior year, though that lasted only a few weeks and we never even got to the exchanging love letters part of it, so what advice could I possibly offer a man who'd been in a relationship for what seemed like years?

"Well, You could start by spending your money on marriage counseling instead of strip clubs from now on," I said with a small smile, walking back over to join him on the couch. It seemed like a legitimate suggestion, despite my teasing demeanor. If anything, I was the poster child for avoiding my personal problems, but it seemed like it would be much more effective in his case to tackle the problem head on instead of trying to sweep it under the rug. 

Settling beside him, she crossed one leg over the other as she looked towards him, his gaze meeting hers. "She doesn't want to talk. She finds reasons to fight. All the time. Going home feels like a second job most nights.." He paused, then let out a curt laugh. "Do these kinds of talks always happen in here or am I getting special treatment?"

I smiled sympathetically at his plight. I couldn't truly understand what he was going through, but it couldn't be easy to dread going home every night. "It must be tough," I said, carefully reaching a hand up to run my fingers through his hair once more and brush some of it back behind his ear. "And no, not everyone gets this kind of treatment. I should charge you extra."

He laughed and the sound itself made that anxious feeling that had settled in on me upon seeing the ring disappear. "Maybe so."

"If I can be your escape for a night, I'll do what I can to make it more relaxing... But if anyone's too pretty to be doing this, it's you," I commented, hoping to lighten the mood. "I've got a whole lot of makeup on to make me look like this."

He shook his head, hint of a smile lining his lips. "I can see past that though. You don't need it at all."

My face flushed and I instinctively turned my head away to prevent him from seeing. I wasn't used to being paid genuine compliments. It was always something based on my assets or my dancing, but never my face. I laughed quietly to myself to cover it up. "Makes me feel better about myself, I guess."

"Fair enough." Another pause. "You can get dressed, if you want."

It was then that I realized I'd been sitting there, having a personal conversation while being mostly naked. I couldn't help but laugh at myself, and I leaned over to pick up my shirt off the ground, pulling it back on and doing up the buttons properly. "Sorry. So used to being naked, I forget sometimes."

"S'alright," he assured me with a chuckle of his own. "I... I don't want you to think I'm throwing myself a pity party or anything, because you're right. I shouldn't be here. But I wanna be."

I nodded some in response, not sure what to say. I didn't know the whole story and I was sure that I probably never would, but I did feel badly that whatever had happened to turn their young love marriage into what it was now had affected him this much. I couldn't say that if I were in his position that I would know what to do either.

"How did you end up working here?"

Looking over to him, he had a warm smile and it had this instant reaction in me, making me feel like I was safe and able to say just about anything. I never opened up easily, but I didn't think I'd ever see him again, so giving a little personal information couldn't hurt, right?

"Life dealt me a shitty hand and I had to do what I had to do," I explained with a shrug. It was vague, but it was all he really needed to know about my life outside of the club. "I needed the money and this was the fastest way to get it that didn't always involve me sleeping with my clients."

His smile shifted into a frown and it brought out a small laugh from me, though I stifled it as he began to speak. "At least you can make the money you need for now, then move onto something bigger and better, yeah?" He said, almost a hopeful question. The intention behind it was sweet, but in a way it sounded condescending. "I'm sorry you have to do this though. It can't be easy."

"It's not, but I chose this. Besides, I get to trick sorry fools out of their money and still sleep well at night knowing that at least they’re not very nice people."

We shared a laugh and watching him, I found it hard to resist staring. I didn't think it was possible to be drawn to someone you barely knew, but there was something about him that made him so much more interesting than any of the other guys that came in here and it made me want to learn so much more about him. My eyes flickered down to his lips and I took in a deep breath, glancing back up to meet his gaze when I caught him doing the same.

"I'm afraid if I keep sitting here, I'll end up doing something I regret," he spoke, his voice barely above a murmur. "I should probably get going. It's getting late."

"Oh. Y-yeah, that... That might be best." It was hard hiding my disappointment that he had to leave now, but I understood why. Besides, it wasn't like we could ever be anything. I wouldn't feel right doing it now that I knew more about his life, even if his wife sounded like she had the potential to be an unpleasant person to be around. Nobody deserved to be cheated on, and I wasn't going to be the one that made that happen to her.

"Make sure none of the other guys are disrespectful towards you," he said and I rolled my eyes, smiling regardless.

"Don't worry. I tell them the security guard out front is my boyfriend, so they usually behave," I explained with a laugh.

"He's not though, is he?"

The question seemed odd and I glanced over his face for a moment before shaking my head. "No. I haven't had a relationship since high school. Dating's way too complicated, especially with this job."

He almost looked relieved with my answer and soon enough, the lighthearted nature of the conversation returned. "Coming from someone who’s been with the same girl since year 11, you’re right and way smarter than I am."

He stood from the couch and I followed his lead, making my way over towards the door to unlock it. "Drive safely, okay?" I said, turning to look at him again just in time to see him holding out two $100 bills towards me.

"Thank you. I know it's not customary for you to be a marriage counselor, but I appreciate it all the same."

Smiling, I took the money from him and set it aside in one of the drawers in the small desk. I looked over to see him still standing there by the doorway and I raised a brow, curious if there was something more he wanted to say.

"When do you get off? Usually."

What?

"It depends on the day and what time my shift starts," I said, shrugging. "Usually around midnight or later. Why?"

"Well... I like talking with you and was hoping we could do it again sometime. It doesn't have to be here -- or it could be, whatever you prefer. But if you ever wanted to go somewhere else and talk, that'd be okay with me too." He was clearly fumbling trying to find the right words to say and I took in a deep breath, trying to keep myself from getting too excited at the notion. He's married, I reminded myself.

"If you'd like to, we can do that," I said, offering a small smile. It was a friendly gesture. There wasn't anything wrong with being friends, right? Nodding my head in the direction of the door, my smile grew some more. "Now go see your wife. I'm sure she's waiting for you."

He nodded and another wide grin spread across his face, that damn dimple coming back and making my heart swell in my chest at the sight. "Okay," he started, opening up the door. "I'll see you again sometime soon, Mikki."

"Mikayla," I quickly corrected him, tucking some hair behind my ear. "My name's Mikayla."

"Mikayla..." He tested the name and it sounded so much nicer rolling off of his tongue, I could've listened to him say my name forever. "Beautiful name for an equally beautiful girl."

The blush returned to my face and I simply shooed him away with my hands, smiling. "I'll be seeing you, Harry."

He left the room and now that I was alone, I ran over the bits and pieces of our conversation in my head. I had never given my real name out to a customer before today. I don't know what had come over me, but clearly there was something about Harry that made me want to connect with him on some level. My challenge now was making sure I kept it from getting too deep for both of our sakes.


	4. (Un)Lost

Harry returned the rest of that week and, much like that first night, despite the surroundings, all he wanted to do was talk. There was one point in our conversations where he joked that coming to see me was far cheaper and more relaxing than seeing a therapist, and I couldn't really disagree. There weren't any pretenses when coming to see me like there were with therapy -- none that we had to follow, anyway. Even though I knew Richie wouldn't be happy that I was spending all that time talking rather than working, I never mentioned it. Harry would still pay at the end of every night and Richie still got his money, so he never questioned why Harry spent as much time in my room as he did. Truthfully, as much as I knew I wasn't able to help much in any way in regards to Harry's situation, the fact that he genuinely wanted to see me time and again brought a prolonged sense of happiness into my life that I hadn't felt since I was a teenager, something I wasn't sure I'd ever feel again considering my circumstances. I knew the risks, but for me it was part of the job. As long as it didn't cross that line, I didn't see a problem with having a new friend, even if he was married.

Then, out of the blue, the visits stopped. At first, I thought he'd gone to one of the other girls for an actual sexual release of some kind -- it'd be strange to sleep with someone that you've started growing close to, right? -- but that thought was soon dashed when I talked to the others. Nobody had seen him step foot in the club in the past week, and it was safe to say that I was dismayed, but not surprised. That's how relationships of any kind seemed to work for me. People would walk out once I'd gotten used to them being there, so generally I tried to be careful with who I let in. I guess I'd let my guard down too easily this time.

The encounters with Harry wouldn't leave my mind for the next few days following his disappearance. I think I mostly wondered whether or not he had managed to work something out with his wife. He hadn't returned to the club since that last night -- I didn't work every day, but Dory kept an eye out for me -- and though I was glad my advice may have been helpful to a degree, there was a big part of me that was disappointed as well. I wouldn't wish for anyone's marriage to fall apart, but he seemed like a nice guy from the little interaction we had and I would've liked a chance to get to know him better. It was a selfish thought, I know, but it was rare to find someone who would rather talk to me instead of ogle at me when I've got my top off right in front of them. There was no point in dwelling on things that would never be, though. Besides, thinking about him had distracted me enough to impair my work performance.

It wasn't much, but it was noticeable enough to where Richie called me back to his office to have a talk. Whenever that happened, though, there was never much talking. He would discipline us -- typically a slap or two, sometimes with his rings still on -- and tell us to get our act together. Then, at the end of the night and sometimes for the rest of the week depending on how bad the infraction, we'd have to give over 5% more of our tips as punishment. There was a small bruise where his ring had made contact with my cheekbone, but makeup proved to be useful in hiding it. I didn't want Dory, Daph, or Liv to find out. What the girls didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

It was late on a Thursday when I saw him again.

Or rather, early Friday morning, as my shift ended at 1 am. I had doled out the money to everyone it needed to be given to and tucked the remainder into my bag before getting dressed. I always brought a change of clothes along with me to wear home, something different from what I'd come into the club wearing earlier that day, so it wouldn't be obvious when I got home where I was coming from. The soft comfort of the t-shirt, oversized dark red sweater, and yoga pants kept out the chill of the night air as I made my way out the club doors.

"Bye Otto!" I called out to the bouncer stationed at the door, waving before I turned around and swiftly bumped into another man's chest. His hands held onto my biceps to help keep me upright as I quickly fumbled over my apology. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I should've been paying attent--"

"Mikayla, it's alright," the man chuckled, and I looked up, greeted by Harry's warm, dimpled smile. I wasn't expecting him to be there, but I was glad it was him I'd run into and not a creep that liked lurking around the club. "You alright there, love?"

I'd been caught staring again, though this time with a stupid grin on my face.

"Harry, hi," I greeted, shaking my head to bring myself back to reality. "Sorry, it's just that I didn't think I'd get to see you again."

"Yeeeeah, about that," he replied, laughing. "I wanted to come round, but I couldn't. Jasmine found glitter on my trousers, so I had to lie and say someone I tattooed had come into the shop with it all over them."

Jasmine was clearly his wife's name -- would I ever get a face for the name? -- but the other new information I learned was surprising, to say the least. Even though we spent hours talking, it never seemed to be about him unless it had to do with his wife, and I realized there was still so much about him that I didn't know. I knew he had tattoos -- a lot of them traced up along his left arm and a few on his right -- but it hadn't crossed my mind he'd be a tattoo artist himself.

"Sorry about that," I commented with a soft smile, though he waved off the apology. "Should've done your own laundry?"

"Probably. I'm an amateur at this whole sneaking around thing," he chuckled, though the joke didn't settle as well with me as he was probably hoping it would. He noticed the discomfort in my features and he quickly corrected himself, eyes gone wide. "Not that we're even doing anything that requires sneaking! I only meant, erm... You know what I meant, right?"

"Are you always this smooth with the ladies?" I joked, nudging him lightly with my elbow. "I knew what you meant. But is there a reason you're prowling the parking lot of a strip club at 1 am or is this a new hobby you've picked up?"

"I came to see you, actually."

What?

I raised my brow at his confession, looking over his face in a vain attempt at finding some answers there, but getting nothing. "Well, you just missed my shift, so you'll have to come back tomorrow night if you want a talking session."

"No, I meant... I wanted to see you. Outside of there," he explained, and I was certain that my heart leapt up into my throat. "I know that this is part of your livelihood and you spent your precious time giving a poor sod like me marital advice," he chuckled, running his hand through his hair and pushing it back out of his face. "We talked briefly about it before, but I was hoping tonight maybe you'd let me treat you to dinner or something in return so I could learn more about you."

"You paid me though, remember?" I wasn't too sure what he was doing. I wanted to say yes, but the hesitation was because I couldn't help feeling there was an ulterior motive behind his offer. That was probably just the cynical side of me that was worried about letting him in, though. There weren't many tattoo shops open this late, so he couldn't have used a work-related excuse to be here. If he was out this late, it was likely his wife had no idea where he was, or he snuck out while she was sleeping, or... Something. It didn't feel right to jump at the chance to spend time with him when there was someone back home with his last name who should be seeing him this late, not me.

"I know," he said, pursing his lips in thought. "But I like talking to you too, so... I mean, you don't have to, but I'd like to. If you'd be up for it."

I looked him over before pulling my phone from my bag to check my calendar for the date. It helped me keep track of both of my work schedules as well as all of my mother's, since she'd recently picked up a third job again. She said she didn't like having the apartment to herself because it was too quiet, but I had a feeling that she simply wasn't used to not being busy. Mom was working late tonight, it seemed, so it wouldn't hurt to stay out a little while longer, right?

"Okay," I finally agreed, tucking my phone away once more. "On one condition."

His excited face faltered slightly and his brows raised, staring me down. "Anything. What is it?"

"I get to choose where we go."

"Oh," he said, laughing and nodding quickly. "Yeah, of course. I thought you were going to say something else."

"What did you think I would say?" I asked, curious to know what he assumed of me.

"I dunno," he admitted, shrugging and looking down, hands stuffed into the pockets of his tight black jeans. "Thought maybe you'd bring up Jas again."

It was clear in that moment that things hadn't gotten any better for him at home. The way he almost seemed to shrink in on himself made me frown and I reached over, giving his arm a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

"Where we're going? It'll be a Jas-free zone. Promise."

He nodded and that smile I'd grown fond of returned to his face the next moment. "Let's get going then. Should I follow you or do you wanna carpool?"

"Unless you want to take the bus, it'd probably be best if you drove," I laughed and he joined in before tugging at a ring of keys he had dangling from his belt loop.

"In that case, follow me," he said, turning and moving around the nose of the black Range Rover he was standing in front of. The lights flashed as he unlocked it and he pulled open the passenger side door for me, offering his hand. I couldn't help myself and I curtsied with the ends of my sweater, taking his hand and stepping up into the large vehicle. It felt nice to be treated like an equal instead of being viewed as less than him or like being kind to me was too much of a burden on him. Not all of the men in the club acted that way, but there were enough of them that it left a significant impact on my self-esteem.

Harry closed the door while I strapped myself in and made his way into the driver's seat before I began giving him directions. There weren't many food options that I liked that were open this late, despite living in the city, but the first place that came to mind was the diner. Not only did I feel more comfortable going somewhere where I knew the people in case things went sour, but it was also close to home and that made it easier for me to get back afterwards. Hopefully he wouldn't mind.

"So, how've you been?" I hear him start, turning down the car's stereo until it was only a low hum in the background.

"I've been alright. As good as I can be, at least," I chuckled, shaking my head. "What about you?"

"About the same. Been pretty busy with work though. Spring break is usually when kids are coming in, absolutely piss drunk and wanting whatever first pops into their heads," he chuckled. "Usually have to turn 'em away, but there are a few that get through and... Well, it's interesting."

"You're a tattoo artist?" I asked the obvious, smiling as I watched him nod, grin spreading across his face.

"Yeah, have been since I was 18. Well... Legally since I was 18, but I was doing small things on friends and myself since I was 16. I'm in the process of potentially co-owning my own shop with a friend from back home," he explained.

The rest of the ride, he told me stories about terrible tattoos he'd done and of nightmare clients that would come into the shop he used to apprentice at in his hometown back in Cheshire, England. I always loved to hear what people did, whether in their spare time or for a living. You could always tell in the way someone's eyes lit up what they were passionate about and the way he spoke about his job made it clear it's what he loved to do. I found out the tattoo shop he worked in now was in Manhattan -- an optimal spot, considering the high tourism factor -- and he lived closer to Brooklyn than I assumed in the Lower East Side. Little bits of his life were coming together to paint a more colorful mental picture, one I'd hope to finish painting at some point in the future.

It was nearing 2 in the morning by the time we made it to the empty parking lot of the diner. Considering it wasn't in the nicest neighborhood, I could see the questioning look on his face, and I couldn't resist laughing, reaching over to pat his shoulder in a reassuring manner.

"I come here all the time. You'll be fine, Manhattan," I teased with a smirk before sliding out of the car and making my way towards the door.

Once inside, I was met with the aroma of hashbrowns being fried in the back and coffee being made, and the tension that had built up in my muscles from a long night's work began melting away. This felt like home.

The ringing of the bell above the door alerted everyone to our arrival and though the diner itself was mostly empty save for a lone woman sitting at the bar, it didn't feel uncomfortable being in there. A short, pear-shaped woman came out from the kitchen with her notepad in hand, saying her usual greeting until she noticed it was me, then all formalities went out the window.

"Mikayla Evelyn, what are you doing out this late?! Shouldn't you be at home? Does your mama know you're wandering around? With strange men, no less," Rita commented with a few clicks of her tongue against the roof of her mouth, noticing Harry trailing inside behind me.

Making a face at the mention of my middle name, I quickly replaced it with a hopeful grin and a laugh. "Hi, Rita. I just got off work and my _friend_ and I are starving, so I came to see you since I know you'll always feed me."

"Mhm," she hummed, giving him a once over before focusing on me again. "Well, take a seat, I'll come get your orders in a few. Drinking the usual, honey?" She asked, making her way behind the counter, and I nodded while sliding into an empty booth.

"Extra chocolatey, please. You're the beeest," I crooned while blowing a kiss in her direction, grabbing two menus from a stack that had been left on the table behind us and handing one to Harry as he sat down across from me.

"What about you, sugar?"

"Oh, erm... Could I just get a glass of water, please?" Harry asked, looking up from his menu and sending a smile her way. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Oh no, no ma'ams around here," she said, clucking her tongue once more, bringing our drinks over to the table. "You can call me Rita. Any friend of Mikayla's is a friend of ours. What's your name? So I know what to holler if you get outta hand."

"In that case, thank you, Rita," Harry amended his earlier statement, smile growing and faint laughter leaving him. "That won't be necessary, I promise. My name's Harry, though. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You're not from around here, are you? I know just about everyone in this neighborhood, so I think I'd remember a pretty face like yours if I'd seen it before," she said and I couldn't help but feel a tad embarrassed.

Rita wasn't my mother, but she may as well have been since she helped to watch me whenever mom had to work when I was younger. She had moved into the neighborhood around the time I was born, coming up from North Carolina with her husband and two children, and she always made sure I got my homework done when I felt more like slacking, so I owed a lot of my academic success to her. She also taught me valuable lessons in life and customer service that you can only get from a Southern-bred woman like her. I spent many hours in the diner as a kid, munching away on whatever experimental foods Lorenzo wanted to add to the menu and helping to wrap silverware and clean tables, and there was never a dull moment when I was here.

"No, I'm not," he chuckled. "I moved to Manhattan a few years back, but I've only recently started doing business down here."

Doing business. That was one way to put it, I guess.

She set down a glass of water in front of him and a tall glass of chocolate milk in front of me and I grinned, pulling my legs up onto the bench to sit cross-legged as I usually did. "Thank you, Rita."

"You're very welcome," she said, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Did you get a chance to look over the menu yet or should I give you some more time?" Her question was directed more towards Harry than it was to me. I knew the menu inside and out from working here, but I usually always ended up getting the same thing.

"The sunnyside platter caught my eye," Harry commented and I found myself laugh.

"Lorenzo will be happy to hear that. He loves going all out on those."

"That he does," Rita chuckled right along with me. "Would you rather have bacon or sausage with it, darling?"

"Let's go with sausage. I've still not gotten used to American bacon," he admitted, scrunching up his nose and closing the menu.

"Coming right up. And let me guess, chocolate chip pancakes for you?"

"You know me so well," I said, nodding. She took our menus and before long, we were alone again. I leaned down to take a sip of my drink when I noticed him holding back some laughter, eyes trained on me. "What?"

"Nothing," he assured me, waving his hand. "You just seem extremely comfortable here compared to the club. It's a nice change. Plus the chocolate milk's rather endearing."

"I grew up around here. It's easier than interacting with strangers all day," I said easily, taking a sip through my straw to keep myself from smiling too much at his other comment.

"Is that how you know everyone here?"

I nodded, sitting back in my seat and tucking some loose strands that had fallen from my bun back behind my ear. "My mom used to work here when I was younger, so I'd spend lots of time here when she was busy. Rita's always been here for as long as I can remember, so we're really close. I work here now too, when I'm not at the club."

"Rita seems like a lovely woman," he said, the smile on his face only growing more after listening. "Do you enjoy it here?"

"I do, yeah. It's just not enough to pay the bills, so I have to make ends meet somehow."

He nodded and I could tell he wasn't sure what to say. I couldn't blame him for it. After all, he never seemed like the type that had ever experienced money troubles in his life, but looks could always be deceiving, so I didn't want to make that judgment too soon.

"You mentioned your mum a few times before, but you haven't mentioned anyone else. Do you have any siblings or...?" He trailed off and I knew what he was wondering. Everyone asked about him at some point.

"Nope. Just me and my mom. I never knew my dad, he ran off before I was even born."

There was a short pause in conversation before he started to talk again, this time the topic of conversation shifted. "My mum and dad separated when I was in primary school," he started, twirling the ice around his glass with the straw. "He's never been around much since then either. Calls my sister and I on holidays, but that's about it, unless he needs something. It's usually money. Sometimes I wonder if I'd be better off without him in the picture at all."

"Maybe." My voice was soft, more than I'd intended it to be. "But either way, you'd be left wondering why he doesn't want to be around you anymore. What changed his mind, what made him want to walk away. Then you feel guilty because you don't have any answers, but the one thing you do know is that he left after finding out about you, so in a way it's your own fault."

He looked to me, but I averted my gaze out the window, looking into the still playground across the street. I rarely talked about my father much more in depth other than the fact that he was gone, but there was something about the man across from me that made me want to tell him everything. Maybe it was because our whole relationship had been born on the premise of discussing his life problems, so it only seemed fair I did the same.

"He's missing out," Harry finally said after many moments. Swallowing hard, I turned my gaze back over towards him and though he was no longer smiling, his face still held that warmth about it that made me feel comforted.

"Thanks," I laughed slightly before taking another sip of my drink, desperately wanting to change the subject. "Does your sister still live back home?"

"She's in London now working as a hair stylist, but yeah," he chuckled. I was glad that the conversation had turned lighthearted once more. I wasn't sure I could handle any more emotional subjects tonight.

"London? Wow." It seemed like such a casual statement for him to make, but for me, London seemed like worlds away. This was probably what it'd be like if an out-of-towner were to ask me what it was like living here. I'd never left the city before and to me this was home, so it didn't seem nearly as exciting as it was to someone who was visiting. "Why didn't you move there? Seems like a lot of work to move all the way out here when there's a perfectly good city closer to home."

"Jas wanted to," he explained, though I noticed the way he almost seemed to flinch at her name. "She's from here, originally, so part of it was wanting to be closer to her friends and family. She's going to school for dance and she didn't wanna be alone, so as the _clearly_ devoted husband I am, I packed up my entire life and moved out here with her to keep her company."

The hint of sarcasm in the title he gave himself made me smile, but it was more sympathetic than amused. The things he had to sacrifice were ones I don't think I could've made if I'd been in his situation. I didn't even go to college because I didn't want to leave my mom, even though I had been offered full-ride scholarships to a few different schools. "I don't know many people who'd be willing to do that," I began, reaching across to lay my hand down over his. "She's lucky she found someone like you."

"Tell her that," he scoffed, curt laugh leaving him, then pursed his lips. "I haven't been able to visit my own family or friends since I left. Limited to phone calls and the occasional Skype call or FaceTime."

I felt his hand turn so he could hold mine more properly and the gentle squeeze he gave was a silent sign of appreciation for my support. If anything, I knew what it was like to feel alone in a large city when you needed someone by your side. I would've given anything to have that when I'd first found out about my mom's cancer, so it was the least I could do to be that person for him.

"Don't y'all start getting too cozy, now." Rita's voice pulled me out of my thoughts and I looked up just in time to pull my hand out of the way, leaving an open space for the plates of food she had in her hand. "I don't make enough to watch anything further than hand holding."

"Oh, it's not like that at al--"

"It's okay if you've got some lovin' in your life, miss Mikayla. Just know I'm keeping my eye on you."

Rita was gone again and my face was as red as the raspberry jam Harry was pouring across his pancakes. He was resisting the urge to laugh, but the suppressed grin on his face was enough for me to toss a sugar packet at his face. "Thanks for leaving me hanging."

"Not like there's any harm in her thinking it, is there?" He asked, grabbing the sugar from his lap and replacing it in the container with the others.

"Other than the fact that you're married?"

He waved his hand dismissively, unraveling his silverware from the napkin and placing the paper down in his lap. That's when I noticed the lack of ring on his finger. "Details. Nothing wrong with having breakfast at 2 am with a friend."

He was right. I knew he was right, but repeatedly reminding myself of the fact that nothing was going on seemed like it would be a common theme the next few weeks.

We talked and ate for the next hour and a half, Rita joining us every now and then in between restocking the tables and wrapping silverware. Harry paid for us both as promised and he left an incredibly generous tip for her, which she later told me made her tear up, and then we headed back outside towards his car. My cheeks had never hurt from smiling too much before, but it was a feeling I think I could get used to.

"Thank you for that. You really didn't have to pay completely, I could've helped with the bill," I said once we stood by the sole vehicle in the parking lot.

Harry chuckled, grabbing his keys again. "Mikayla, I honestly didn't mind it one bit. I had lots of fun tonight, so thank you for humoring me and bringing me here. I'll have to add it to my places to frequent from now on when I'm around."

"Absolutely," I began, pulling open the passenger door to grab my bag from the seat. "It can be our place."

"Our place," he repeated, nodding. He noticed me shrugging my bag onto my shoulder and a crease appeared between his brows, motioning towards it. "What're you doing?"

"I'm getting my things?" I spoke slowly, raising a brow. "Why?"

"Oh, I, erm... I thought I was driving you home."

"I'm not going to make you waste the gas," I laughed lightly, pointing down the road. "I'm only three blocks that way, so I'll walk. You should get home."

He nodded some before stepping closer, holding open his arms with a hopeful look. It took me a moment to realize what it was he was doing and to mask my embarrassment, I quickly hid my face in his shirt as I wrapped my arms around him. He chuckled and I could feel his long arms envelop me in a warm embrace, one I didn't want to end, but it did and all too soon.

"I'll see you again soon, yeah?" He said and I looked up towards him when he pulled back so I could get a better view of his face.

"Hopefully, yeah." Smiling, I waved and headed down the sidewalk, grip tight on my bag as I walked.

It was about halfway down the first block that I glanced over my shoulder and noticed Harry's car driving slowly down the road in my direction, lights shining bright to help lead the way through the normally dimly lit path ahead of me. My smile grew and I shook my head, chuckling when he pulled a little closer and I turned to face forward again.

"Thought you could use some more light," he called through the open window.

"Go home, Harry," I responded in a firm tone, but the traces of laughter remaining in it left it sounding much more lighthearted than I'd intended.

"I will! After I know you've made it safely."

"I've lived here my whole life, nothing's going to happen to me."

"It's only a few extra blocks, it's no big deal."

Trying to reason with him was a futile effort and though the rest of the walk was silent save for the low hum of his engine, the smile never once left my face.

I slowed to a stop once I reached my building and looked over to him, his car stopping along the curb. "We're here. Are you happy now?"

"Yes," he chuckled. "Now I'll go. Have a good night, Mikayla."

"You too, Harry."

I was about to turn and head up the steps leading to the front door of the complex when I stopped myself. Walking back to the car, I moved around to the driver's side door and leaned in to place a quick peck to his cheek. The surprised look on his face was priceless and I smiled before jogging up the front steps, pulling out my keys.

"What was that for?" I heard his voice over my shoulder and I glanced back to look at him.

"For caring about me. Now go home already," I laughed, shooing him away.

I watched his car drive away, but not without noticing the smirk on his face and the rapid beat of my heart. I'd never felt this way before, but I'd read about it and watched it play out about a million times on screens both big and small. These friendly feelings wouldn't remain that way for very long if I didn't try to squash them now, but I was worried that I may already be too late to stop it.

Shit. I was in big trouble.


	5. About the Boy

After the night I'd spent with Harry, I wasn't sure what to do. There was a nagging voice in the back of my head telling me I needed to stop seeing him altogether, but there was another part of me that thought I should get another opinion on the matter. That was where I was at a loss, though. Normally I would tell my mom everything, but I couldn't tell her about him. If I did, I'd have to fabricate at least half of the story or omit details and, while writing is my forte, I didn't want to lie to her about something like this when I already had so many other things I was keeping from her. Thinking about it, Dory and Daphne both had more experience in the romance world than I did, so if anybody could give me advice on what I should do to get rid of the feelings starting to grow, it would be them.

Dory had taken off on Monday to work on an assignment with a classmate, but she insisted that we come over for a sleepover when we were done so that we could meet her new friend. She had mentioned the girl sparingly throughout the semester -- her name was Shaina, if I recall correctly -- talking about helping her with her work all throughout their 2-D Design course, and though it didn't seem like the ideal environment to be discussing this sort of thing, Dory assured me that her friend wouldn't judge. Apparently, Shaina already knew about the stripping.

Dory had always been an open book. I don't think I'd ever understand it, or how she became friends with the two girls in the club with their walls up the highest. Then again, she could probably befriend a brick wall. That was just part of her charm, being able to make everyone feel important and loved.

After work, Daphne and I split a cab and made our way to Dory's place. We both managed to get off earlier than usual -- it was a slow night, so Liv insisted we get some rest and she'd cover for us -- and the promise of a warm meal and good company made the night ahead seem inviting. It was definitely needed on both sides. I could tell by the look in her eyes that Daphne was having a rough time, but with what I wasn't sure. I hoped maybe with Dory's help we could find out and help her, but I knew it was unlikely she'd open up to us about it. She rarely did, but she always knew we were there and she said that that was more than enough.

We made our way to the fourth floor and knocked on the door, the aroma of some combination of tomato sauce and cheese filtering into the hallway as we waited. Usually we did spaghetti dinners, but it smelled like Dory had decided to switch it up this time around for our new guest.

"Oh, they're here! Give me one sec."

There was scurrying on the other side of the door before it was pulled open, and Dory's arms were thrown around us both.

"You made it just in time! I pulled the cannelloni out a minute ago. Come on, come on, come ooon." She was clearly excited, though that wasn't much a change from the usual, and she tugged on our hands to lead us inside.

"One of these days, I'm going to bring something that isn't Italian food so I don't have to keep working off all these carbs," Daphne sighed, but she chuckled nonetheless, setting her things down once we'd reached the living room.

"Oh hush, you know you love my Italian food," Dory said, sending a pout her way.

"You'd think you'd cook more Spanish food considering your heritage," I commented off-hand, setting my own bag beside Daphne's.

"I had plenty of that growing up, so I'm expanding my horizons. You two have never complained until today! Hush!"

We laughed as she turned to flounce back into the kitchen and that was when I noticed the brunette sitting at the breakfast bar, checking her phone. Her back was turned towards us until Dory got her attention and pointed over towards us.

"Shaina, these are my best friends from the club! This is Daphne, and this is Mikayla, but we usually call her Mikki. Actually, I call them Daphy Duck and Mikki Mouse, but I don't think they like it very much," she giggled and I couldn't help but to smile, shaking my head.

"I would've stopped you if I didn't like it," I cut in, a comment to which Dory came over and gave me a hug.

"Good, because I can't stop now. Mikki, Daphy, this is Shaina!" She introduced us and that was when the girl turned to look towards us, a smile dominating her face, though it almost seemed to falter momentarily as she looked at me. Maybe it was a slight paranoia that caused me to see things that didn't actually happen, so I tried to brush it off before reaching my hand out towards the new girl.

"It's nice to meet you. Dory's told us about you a few times." I hoped that my polite conversation would help to keep things light and she laughed quietly at my statement before looking to Dory.

"Has she been telling you guys how awful I am at drawing?" Shaina asked with a grin. Maybe I was just seeing things before.

"You are not!" Dory huffed, playfully hitting her shoulder. "You've gotten so much better since the start of the semester!"

"Thanks to you, yeah," she replied with a wink.

Dory waved her hands, deciding to give up on arguing over the subject, and moved into the kitchen. She grabbed plates and silverware before calling us in to help ourselves.

"I don't know if Dory told you, but we usually eat in the living room. Talk and watch movies, that sort of thing," I explained to Shaina, who had positioned herself beside me as I put a few of the cannelloni onto my plate. She nodded while listening, grabbing some garlic bread off the tray on the stove and looked over to me, looking over my face with a smile that held some kind of content disbelief behind it. It was confusing, to say the least, but I tried to pretend like I didn't notice.

"Hey Dor, you got anything new from your brother?" Daphne called around her own garlic bread that was already half devoured and hanging from her mouth.

"Oh oh, yes! He sent me something from, um... I think he said it was from North Carolina when he went there, but I haven't opened it yet," she explained, moving to the fridge and grabbing out a box of canned sodas. The side of the container read CHEERWINE in large, red letters and Dory showed it off proudly. "He said it's really good, so I'll share!"

Her brother, Jordan, had moved down to Florida a few years back and as a way of making friends, he started a band. Now they were touring nationally -- they'd come up to New York every once in awhile, so I met him the last time and he seemed like a nice enough guy whose band played decent music -- but he would always send Dory things he thought she'd like from the places they visited since he couldn't seem to convince her to go with him. I never understood why she wouldn't take the opportunity to see more of the country and spend time with her brother, but she insisted she didn't want to be a burden on him while he was touring. Though, part of me believed she secretly enjoyed the job and school too much to put either on hold for a few weeks.

"Sweeeet, gimme some." Daphne reached over and took a can from the box before meandering into the living room with her plate piled high, plopping down onto the left side of the couch where she usually settled for the evening.

The rest of us followed with our food and drinks, gathering around the coffee table. I didn't want Shaina to feel left out sitting by herself, so I chose to sit beside her on the floor facing Daphne and Dory, who had taken the other spot on the couch.

"Shaina," Dory started, pushing the food into her cheek so she could speak, "tell them about yourself! I want you guys to all be best friends too."

Laughing, Shaina nodded and swallowed her first bite before she spoke. "What do you guys wanna know?"

"Are you from around here?" I asked, hoping to get the conversation started.

"Kind of." She set her fork down and took a sip of her water to clear her mouth. "I was born in the Hamptons and lived there for a bit, then lived with my grandparents in South Carolina for a year after I turned 17. I moved back to the city with my dad when I was... 19, I think, when I started going to school. He works here mostly, but during the summer, we travel around to the hubs for his business to make sure things are running smoothly."

She almost seemed hesitant to relay the information, but I chocked it up to the fact she didn't want to seem like she thought she was better than us. After all, the three of us weren't exactly well off, so maybe she didn't want to come across as if she were bragging.

"What are you majoring in?" Daphne piped up, though she seemed more focused on her food than on the conversation at hand.

"Criminal justice with a minor in business," she laughed. "I decided I wanted to take a few interior design classes, so I signed up for some at another school, which is how I ended up meeting Adora. I didn't realize how much work went into art until I actually had to start doing it for a grade."

"She's not as bad as she likes to say she is," Dory informed us in a loud whisper, grinning over towards Shaina who stuck her tongue out in response.

"That's pretty impressive. Your parents must be really proud of you." It was meant to be a supportive statement, but to anybody that knew me well enough, they would've caught the almost bittersweet tone that tinged the words.

Shaina smiled some and nodded, brushing her bangs from out of her eyes. "Yeah, I'd like to think so. What about you guys? Do you do other things outside of the club?"

"Mhm! Mikki's a writer and Daph does some underground boxing like a badass," Dory giggled. Daphne rolled her eyes at the way she presented the information, but the hint of a smile on her lips was enough for us to know she was anything but annoyed.

"Speaking of, Dom's been getting on my case about that again," Daphne sighed, standing and making her way to the kitchen.

Daphne rarely spoke up about her life outside of the club, but one thing she spoke about in excess was this guy named Dominic who was practically head over heels for her and had been since they met through a mutual friend almost a year ago. Even when she wanted to seem annoyed about him, she never seemed to reach that point. In fact, there was even a sense of fondness when she spoke of the things he'd do, like check in on her nearly every day to make sure she'd gotten enough to eat and bringing her little trinkets he'd find in the store beside the coffee shop he worked in.

He'd found out about her fighting a few months back by chance, having stumbled upon her on her way back from one of the matches. He'd gotten worried -- for obvious reasons, though she continuously reiterated the fact that he wasn't her keeper and she could do whatever the hell she wanted -- and he tried to get her to stop, but to no avail. Ever since then, she'd had to find new routes to get there to throw him off. He must've caught onto it again somehow.

"He's just worried for your safety, Daphy Duck," Dory cooed, pursing her lips. "You shouldn't be too mad at him."

"It was fine at first, but now it's getting old having to hear him go on and on about how I don't need to be doing it and that I'm so much better than this," she called back from the kitchen. "Next time he does it, I'm probably going to punch him in the face."

"Daphy, no!"

"Dory, I swear..."

I made a face because those words were all too familiar to me. He and Harry would probably get along nicely.

Harry...

"Mikki?"

I looked up and noticed Shaina looking at me, a crease in her brow showing her concern and her hand rested on my shoulder. "You okay?"

"Oh, yeah," I replied quickly and offered up a smile. "Just... Started thinking about someone, that's all."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Thank you though," I assured her and rested my hand over top of hers.

"Oh, Mikki Mouse! You said you had something you wanted to talk to us about, didn't you?" Dory interrupted her bickering with Daphne, but I felt bad that she wanted to change the subject so abruptly.

"Did we want to finish with Daph's problem first?"

"It's not really a problem. More annoying than anything," Daphne commented offhandedly as she retook her seat, looking directly at me. "I'll handle it like always. Besides, you wanted us here in the first place."

That's right. I did call this together, didn't I?

"Um... Well, I don't have any smooth way to transition this, so I'll jump right in," I laughed a bit, nervously looking towards Shaina. I didn't want the girl to think less of me before ever getting to know me because of this, but Dory said she didn't judge about the stripping... So maybe she wouldn't about this either. "It's about Harry."

"That guy again?" Daphne sighed. "I thought he hadn't shown up in awhile so you'd be done with him."

"That's the thing," I began, setting my food down onto the table and wringing my hands together. "He showed up outside of the club the other night."

"What?! Mikki, you didn't tell me that," Dory exclaimed and she all but fell off the couch to lean in further. "Tell us what happened!"

"I was about to head home when he stopped me and insisted on taking me out to dinner as a thank you for listening to him vent about... Stuff." I hesitated in revealing the fact that he was married. He hadn't worn the ring while in the club after that first night and I couldn't remember if I brought it up at any point before, so I didn't know if I would have to or if they could figure it out. "He said he wanted to get to know me better since we'd spent so much time talking about him."

"Did you go?!" Dory's excitement was evident and my smile grew, but I only managed a nod before she squealed and threw her hands up in the air. "Mikki Mouse went on her first date!"

"No, it wasn't a date!" I quickly corrected.

"It sounds like a date to me," Shaina piped up and Daphne agreed with a nod.

Sighing, I shook my head. "It wasn't a date because he's married."

The room fell silent and I could feel everyone's eyes on me more heavily than I did only moments before. Swallowing hard, I glanced around to take in all of their faces, and they were a mix of confused and astonished.

Daphne was the first to break the silence, but her interest in the situation piqued significantly, evident in the way she almost seemed to grin as she spoke. "You didn't tell us he was married."

"Because I didn't think it would turn into anything," I admitted, though in a way, I was also admitting to not only them but myself that this felt like _something_ , and that was crossing into dangerous territory. "He was coming to the club to talk to me about his marriage problems and he'd pay when he left. I was just doing a job."

"But that job stopped the minute you agreed to go to dinner with him," Daphne finished my train of thought and I nodded slowly.

Out of the two of them, Daphne seemed to understand where my mind would go when I thought too much on something. Dory was the best with pep talks because of her optimistic nature, but Daphne gave me the best advice. Ultimately, I think it was because we were so similar in our approaches to life that it was easier for her to understand my avoidance of problems and the advice she'd give me were things she wished she had heard along the way.

"Do you like him?" Dory asked, though her voice was soft and eyes large as she tried to read my face.

"Well, yeah. He's a nice guy." I furrowed my brows when I saw Dory shaking her head and quickly muttering 'no' repeatedly under her breath.

"I mean, do you _like him_ like him?"

I felt like I was in grade school again.

"I..." My voice trailed off as my thoughts ran rampant. It took everything in me to finally push the answer I knew was true out of my mouth. "Yeah. I guess I do."

"Mikki," Dory started with a sympathetic frown. "You've gotta be careful, you could get into big trouble."

"I know. I told myself not to get mixed up with it. It's just that he's the first guy that's shown any genuine interest in me, and it wasn't because of my body or what I could do for him. He said he liked that I actually listened to him and... I don't know." I bit my lip. Verbalizing it made me sound pathetic, if anything. "It's stupid to even humor the idea when I wouldn't want to do anything to break up a marriage. He just seems so unhappy with her."

"Do you know what's wrong with them?"

"He says they fight a lot," I started, running over the things he'd told me through various venting sessions. "Over stupid things. About everything, really. It started before they moved here, but it got worse when they did. From what he told me, he left everything back home to come here for her, but she seems ungrateful for the things he does for her."

"He's probably spinning a sob story for you, Mik." Daphne frowned. I could tell she felt badly for me, that I'd gotten wrapped up in this, or maybe because she knew how rare it was for me to actually start to feel something anything past professional for the guys I met. Whatever it was, I had to look away because the pitying looks I was getting weren't helping me feel any better. My hands seemed a much easier place to focus and I realized I'd been picking at my nail beds the whole time.

"It might be best to keep from seeing him alone, if you don't want to break him and his wife up," Shaina suggested with a small shrug. I turned to look at her as she continued speaking. "You don't want to give him the idea that you'd be okay doing that, y'know?"

I nodded a bit, taking in everything they'd said to me. Even if Harry insisted we were only friends, the fact that he always took off his ring when he was around me and didn't bother correcting Rita when she thought we were together made me feel like maybe he was testing the waters of what I'd be okay with in regards to being with him. If his wife knew about this -- about us, whatever we were right now -- I wouldn't feel as badly about all of it as I did, but I knew that was unlikely to happen.

"You guys are right," I finally said after a few silent moments of contemplation. “I’ll let him know next time I see him.”

“It’s for the best,” Shaina said while patting my shoulder before shifting to stand up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to call my dad and let him know I’m staying here tonight so he doesn’t freak out.”

“You can use my room, Shaina!” Dory pointed in the direction of the hall. Shaina quickly made her way from the room and closed the door, leaving the three of us alone.

Sighing, I picked up my fork and poked at the food still sat on my plate. “Sorry, guys.”

“Sorry for what, Mikki Mouse?” Dory asked, her attention now back on me.

“Ruining the mood,” I replied, looking up at her. “It’s stuff I already knew I should do, I just didn’t want to listen to my conscience.”

“We rarely want to. I ignore mine all the time,” Daphne laughed. “But you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Mik. And who knows, if he actually wants to be with you, then maybe this’ll be the kick in the ass he needs to get his shit together.”

“That was oddly uplifting,” I laughed, but I smiled and nodded, looking between the two. “Thank you.”

“You’re there when we need you, so it’s the least we can do,” Dory assured me with a quick nod before grabbing the remote that sat on the end table, flipping on the TV to pull up Netflix. “Once Shaina gets back, we’re gonna get our Disney oooon!”

“Ugh, Dory,” Daphne groaned, her head flopping back onto the couch cushions. “For the love of God, don’t make us watch Finding Nemo again.”

“I will have you know, Daphne Odessa Costas, that Finding Nemo is a masterpiece and should be respected as such!”

I listened to the two bicker over the movie choices with a fond smile and finished off the rest of my dinner. It took a couple minutes for Shaina to come back out -- she said she needed to use Dory’s printer to print something for a school assignment after her call with her dad -- but by the time she did, we’d all squeezed onto the couch and settled on watching Lilo and Stitch. Even though tonight hadn’t been exactly how I had intended for it to go, being able to be open and honest about the situation with my friends made me feel better. I didn’t have to keep this locked up inside like I would have if this had been a few years ago.

Of everything that I had to be thankful for, one of the biggest was our little family of misfits.


	6. Mama

We spent the majority of the evening watching movies and goofing off with each other before we all went off to bed. Shaina was the first, saying she had to be up early for some brunch her father was hosting the next day, but we all followed soon after and we were all down by 3 am, including myself. I'd never been able to sleep easily, but that night it was almost instant. I wasn't exactly sure what to attribute it to -- maybe I had simply tired myself out so much from running over the situation in my head multiple times or the amount of stress I had regarding Harry had dissipated -- but whatever it was, I never knew how much some quality time with good friends could do to lift my spirits until now. Even if the advice the girls had given me wasn't exactly the answers I was hoping to hear, I knew it was what I needed to hear.

My stomach hurt from the abundance of french toast Shaina made for us before she left and the laughter we all shared in the morning, but I wouldn't have changed a thing. Out of habit, I was hesitant when she asked to exchange numbers, but it was nice to have a new friend that already knew some of the dark parts of my life and didn't seem to judge me. I was content overall, despite the fact I knew I'd have a difficult conversation ahead of me the next time I saw Harry.

Who knew when that would be, though. I had no way of contacting him, so for all I knew it could be weeks before I saw or heard from him again. My only hope was that he would understand where I was coming from and he wouldn't be upset.

The afternoon sun was high over the city by the time I made my way home the next day. The bus ride was relatively normal, save for a woman who held an entire conversation with herself, and I was stepping onto the curb at the end of my block twenty minutes later. Keys in my hand, I made my way into the apartment complex and immediately spotted our landlord, Mike, as I made my way inside.

"Good morning, Mike," I greeted, going to the row of mail slots along the wall and unlocking the small door for apartment 3C.

"Morning, Mikayla," he replied in his usual chipper tone, bringing a smile to my face. "How was your evening? Didn't see you come in last night, must've been pretty busy."

"My night was excellent. I spent some time with a friend," I explained, pulling out the few letters that had been inside before locking the mailbox up again. "Do you know if my mom's home?"

"Mm can't say I've seen her," he commented, his words coming out slowly as if he were still in deep thought over the answer. I hadn't checked mom's schedule, but if she was already working, then I probably wouldn't see her again until the evening and that gave me time to shower, decide what to make for dinner, and maybe even rehearse what to say to Harry.

"Alright, thanks anyway. I'll see you around." I was ready to head over to the staircase when I heard him calling my name again, catching my attention to see him standing in the doorway of his office and waving me over.

"Nearly forgot, but you got a package delivered," Mike spoke quickly, stepping back into the room and I followed right behind, brows furrowed in confusion.

"I did? I didn't order anything," I said quietly, the second half mainly a comment to myself as I tried to recall if anything stuck out to me.

"Unless you sent yourself flowers, I doubt you bought them," he chuckled, picking up a vase with a bouquet of flowers from his desk and handing them over. The bouquet was a combination of white and violet orchids and it was easily one of the most aesthetically pleasing flower arrangements I'd ever seen. "Delivery guy said it was from someone named Harry, didn't have an apartment number though so he stuck 'em with me. Got an admirer, do ya?"

Even if I couldn't see it, I could feel that my face flushed two shades of red darker at his comment. I hid my face behind the flowers, pretending to take in a deep breath to admire the floral scent though his laughter told me I hadn't succeeded in being convincing. "Thank you for keeping these safe."

And with that, I made my way up to the third floor, my desire not to drop the vase the only thing keeping my hands steady. Why had he sent me flowers? It wasn't something you did for someone that was only a friend, right? I wasn't sure what to do, but I knew I was in over my head, and it took a few deep breaths to keep my hands still to unlock the door. Once inside, I set them onto the kitchen counter and began the search for a card, anything that could possibly tell me his reason behind the gift.

My eyes caught sight of a small rectangular piece of paper tucked away in the petals and I pulled it out, my eyes scanning over the words printed onto it in a cursive font:

_"Thank you for the other night. Can't wait to do it again. All the love, H. x"_

I flipped the card over and the information for the florist was printed there along with another phone number written in black pen, one I could only assume belonged to the man who'd sent these himself.

"Ugh," I groaned softly, setting the card down onto the counter and putting my head down into my hands, elbows propped up onto the counter.

I stayed like this for a little while before I looked at the flowers, standing still for a few moments and unsure of what to do. The flowers were beautiful, there was no denying that, but I didn't feel right with them sitting there and staring at me. It was almost like they were taunting me, like the universe decided to play some cruel joke on me after I'd felt certain I needed to cut this all off. If this was meant to be some sort of sign, it certainly didn't help make things any clearer.

I finally decided that I would leave it for now and come back to it later, after I'd taken a shower and cleared my head. If anything, it would help me to relax and unwind before I made any brash decisions one way or the other.

I made my way down the short hall to my bedroom where I set my overnight bag and I grabbed some fresh clothes from my closet before heading into the bathroom, turning on the hot water, and letting the steam fill up the room.

I'm not sure how long I stayed under the stream of water, but it was long enough for the thoughts that had been plaguing me to disappear temporarily and that was good enough for me. My curls were weighed down by the water that soaked through my hair and my skin was tinged a light shade of red by the time I got out of the shower and I noticed a towel was neatly folded and sitting on the sink counter, along with what looked like a new bottle of leave-in conditioner, both of which hadn't been there when I'd gone in earlier. That could only mean one thing: mom was home.

Whenever guests would leave things at the hotel, she was able to take them home if they went unclaimed. I assumed this product I'd never seen before was one of those items she'd brought home today. We got a lot of second hand things that way, but it was cheaper than getting them from the store, and sometimes we got nice gadgets out of it. It's how I ended up with an iPod when I was younger, since otherwise we wouldn't have been able to afford it.

A smile came to my face and I towel dried my hair before combing some of the conditioner through my hair. It smelled like citrus and went well with my shampoo, so I made sure to tuck it away into the cabinet for later use, then braided my hair and got dressed.

Stepping from the bathroom, I heard the sound of humming coming from the kitchen where I could hear the sound of the kettle whistling on the stove. I followed the sounds just in time to see mom pouring hot water into two mugs that sat on the counter. She didn't notice my presence until I set the milk beside her, causing her to jump from being startled. I couldn't resist laughing and she joined me, setting the kettle back down and placing her hand over her heart.

"You scared me, monkey," she said, smiling up at me. "Did you find the conditioner I left for you?"

"I did and I'm using it right now," I informed her as I glanced into the teacups to see what kind she'd been making for us. I caught a waft of peppermint before her words caught my attention again.

"You were in there for so long, I wasn't sure when you'd be out," she explained, as if there needed to be any reason for tea besides just wanting some, and I glanced over to the clock to see it was nearly 4:30 in the afternoon.

"I didn't realize how long it'd been," I admitted with a scrunch of my nose.

"Would your present shower escape have anything to do with those lovely flowers you got?"

I frowned slightly as the realization dawned on me that I had forgotten to hide the vase in my room before jumping into the shower. Part of me thought I'd have more time once I'd gotten out, but I had also spent nearly two and a half hours in there, so I had nobody to blame but myself for the awkward predicament I was in now.

"Yeah, you could say that," I started with a sigh, steeping the tea bag for a few more moments before tugging it out and tossing it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked, her words hesitant.

One of the main things the two of us had in common was that when things got too complicated, we tended to try and hide it from the other so they wouldn't worry. I knew that I couldn't do that this time though, now that she knew there was someone in my life sort of pursuing me, if you could call it that. I'd already kept so many things from her that this seemed like it'd be easier to explain than what I was doing for a living. Maybe her perspective could help me even more, especially if it lined up with what the girls had told me last night.

"His name is Harry." I finally broke the silence, pouring some milk and honey into my tea and stirring it slowly while I carefully planned out my words. "I met him in the city a couple weeks ago. We've talked a lot and he took me to dinner at the diner the other night and... I guess I don't really know where we stand. I don't think we could be anything more than friends, but that hasn't stopped me from feeling... Something. I don't know." Swallowing hard, I kept my eyes locked on my tea rather than looking to watch my mom's reactions as I spoke. I was trying to keep it as vague as possible, to keep from outing the fact that we met at my job or that he was married. I didn't want her to think less of me, but I definitely didn't want her thinking less of him. "It's complicated."

"It doesn't sound complicated to me," she replied, picking up her tea after having prepared it with her usual sugar and splash of milk. "It sounds like you're looking for reasons to push him away."

Looking over towards her, I wrestled for a moment with the idea of telling her about Jasmine -- what little information I knew about her, anyway -- but I didn't think it was my place to air his dirty laundry out to everyone I knew. I'd already told the girls, so the least I could do was keep it a secret now. "He's... He's also interested in someone else. That's why it's complicated."

"Ah, that does make it a little more difficult." Taking a sip from her tea, mom took a longer time to ponder her answer with this one and I waited in anticipation for whatever motherly wisdom she could impart on me. I knew it was foolish to believe she would have all the answers, but she was older than all of us, so maybe she'd have more of an idea of how to approach the situation. "Did he start seeing you before or after this other girl?"

"After. But I still don't know if we could really consider us seeing each oth--"

"You went to dinner, right?"

"Yeah," I said slowly, raising a brow.

"And he bought you flowers?"

"Yes..."

"And do you know if he's been actively doing any of this for the other girl?"

"I..." I paused, trying to think back on anything that Harry had told me through our various talks that could help me answer the question. "I don't think so. Not recently, anyway."

"Then I think it's safe to say that he genuinely likes you a lot more than he likes her." Her words caught me off guard, especially considering the things my friends had been saying the night before. "At least, he likes you enough to continue pursuing you, despite whatever interest he may have had in this other girl."

"You don't think he's just using me?" I asked with my brows knitted together. Trying to gauge where my mother was coming from was difficult, but I couldn't really say much when I wasn't giving her the full picture.

“Do you think he’s using you?” Her voice was soft and it was all she said before taking a sip of her drink, eyes never leaving me the entire time.

I hated when she’d turn the question back on me because I knew it was a tactic she used to get more information out of me when she could sense I wasn’t being completely honest, which I wasn’t. I had to hesitate and think over my response before I answered.

Sighing, I made my way out of the kitchen and motioned for mom to follow along behind me, heading over to the couch in the living room. It gave me more time to think, but I also felt like I needed to sit down in case this talk ended up being a lot longer than it already had been.

“Sometimes,” I admitted slowly, lowering myself down onto the couch cushion and setting my mug of tea onto a coaster to prevent from ruining the wooden coffee table. “Sometimes I feel like he’s only coming to me because she’s not giving him attention, but other times it seems like he’s not even thinking about her and I’m the only girl in his life. I just don’t see why he’d be interested in me of all people when he already had someone.”

“You’ve never been able to brag about yourself, so I’m not surprised you feel that way,” she said and I looked over to her, brow raised until she decided to elaborate further. “Maybe it’s because he sees something in you that you don’t see in yourself. Or maybe you give him something that she doesn’t, something that’s essential for any sort of relationship to work. Do you talk a lot?”

“That’s all we do, really. We’ve talked so much that we know a lot about each other, even if we’ve only hung out a couple of times,” I explained, smiling slowly. “He’s really sweet and I want what’s best for him, but I don’t know if I’m it.”

“Oh, monkey,” she cooed and she reached her hand over, the back of her fingers lightly caressing my cheek. “I know that I’m a _little_ biased, but you are absolutely incredible. You’re empathetic, intelligent, talented, and so beautiful. He would have to be a fool to turn you away, and if that’s the case, he’s not somebody you need in your life anyway.”

I know that I was hearing these words of encouragement from my mom and in a way she was obligated to say these sort of things, but even still it was hard for me not to smile and feel as though there may be some truth behind her words. I don’t think I could ever believe her fully, though. I gave myself credit where credit was due -- I knew I was book smart, I had the grades and scholarship offers to prove it -- but I also believed that there were plenty of girls out there who had more to offer than I did.

She had to have a point though about Harry. If things with Jasmine weren’t going well, then he clearly wasn’t happy or getting what he needed out of the relationship. Maybe something could work out, if he was willing to break off his relationship with her first. As much as I would hate to be the reason behind their marriage coming to an end, he wasn’t happy and that was clear. Maybe if he was finally able to do what he wanted or feel appreciated for who he was with someone else, even if it didn’t end up being me, he could achieve that happiness.

“Do you think I should call him?” I asked after a few moments, my head tilting into her touch.

I watched as her smile grew and she simply nodded, lightly pinching my cheek. “I think you should call him.”

I made a face and stuck my tongue out at her before standing, making my way to the kitchen, and grabbing the card with his number on it. Taking in a deep breath, I bit my lip and looked over the 10 digits along the paper before slipping back into my bedroom where I picked up my phone and dialed his number, bringing it to my ear and waiting as I heard ringing down the line.

Nerves were growing in my stomach with each passing ring, but his voicemail picked up instead and I was almost thankful I wouldn’t have to talk to him directly. Clearing my throat, I listened to his sad attempt at a punny voicemail message and chuckled quietly to myself before the beep indicated it was time to leave a message.

“Uh, hey. It’s me. Mikayla, I mean. I realized you don’t have my number so I should probably tell you who I am, though you probably could’ve figured it out.” I was rambling. Shaking my head, I tried to settle myself before speaking again. “I, um… I got the flowers. They’re beautiful, so thank you. I don’t think anybody’s actually sent me flowers before.” I bit my lip, another pause. “If you could call me back sometime soon, whenever you’re able to, I have something I wanted to talk to you about. Hopefully I’ll hear from you soon. Bye.”

I hung up and sighed to myself, glancing at the information on my screen before I added him as a new contact. I wasn’t sure when he would call me back, but I really hoped it would be soon. If anything, I just wanted to hear his voice again.

“So, how’d it go?” I heard my mom’s voice from the doorway and I looked over, rolling my eyes with a soft smile.

“He didn’t answer. He’s probably at work.”

“Well, you’ll have to keep me updated. I want to meet this boy so I can make sure he’s good enough for my daughter,” she said with a small smirk of her own and I grabbed my pillow, tossing it at her though she caught it before it could make contact with her face.

“I’m a grown up, mom. I can handle it myself,” I drawled with a pout.

Stepping into my room, mom set the pillow back down onto the bed before cradling my face in her hands. “You’ll always be my little girl, monkey. Nothing will ever change that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said in a dismissive manner, but I was still smiling.

She leaned in to press a kiss to my forehead and I closed my eyes as her lips lingered there for a moment. “Come on, monkey. Let’s go make dinner and then we can watch a movie.”

“Can I pick?”

“Only if it’s not Toy Story 3 again. I don’t think I can handle the tears tonight.”

We laughed and I nodded in agreement before we made our way back into the kitchen. I wasn’t 100% sold on everything I’d been told within the past 48 hours or so between the girls and my mother, but the least I could do was try to see where things led if I entertained the idea. I could see where Harry stood on all of it, but if anything then he’d be able to realize he had better options than staying in a loveless marriage. As much as I would like for him and I to get a shot to see what we could be, the only outcome I wanted guaranteed was his happiness. That was all that mattered to me, even if I selfishly wanted him to be happy with me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one might not be as good as the others, but only because I didn't have as much time to work on it. The story will definitely get pretty interesting from here on out though, so thank you for reading!


	7. Green Eyes

A few days had passed and I still hadn't gotten word from Harry, let alone an acknowledgement text to let me know he'd reply when he could. While it was disheartening having to wait around for any sort of sign that he'd received my message, I had come to expect that from our efforts at communication. I had waited weeks to see him once already, so why did a few days feel like an eternity all of a sudden?

It probably had something to do with the secrecy of it all, the fact that I wanted something more out of our relationship that I knew I probably couldn't get, and not hearing anything back made me worry that maybe I'd misread all of the signs and put too much faith in the idea that what we had between us was anything more than friendship. Regardless of where I saw the potential of our relationship going, whether we stayed just friends or became something more, I knew if I had to continue this game of eternal phone tag for longer than a week, I would probably scream.

I didn't feel up to working at the club tonight, the anxiousness brought about by the waiting game having taken a lot of energy out of me, so I pulled out my phone to text Olivia and let her know I wouldn't be showing up. That was one benefit of the job. Technically, we weren't employed by the club; we were all freelancers who would pay to perform at the club, which is why we distributed our earnings at the end of the night to those on the club's payroll. Even though there were regular dancers at the club, like me and the girls, as long as we let Olivia know ahead of time -- mainly so she could find other girls to take our place for that night -- we weren't obligated to show up.

I knew Richie wouldn't like that I was calling out, but Olivia always covered for me. Usually it was an excuse of not feeling well, in which case he would only scoff and tell me to work extra hard when I came back to make up for the money I'd lost him, but I never felt like I had to explain myself to him. He didn't need to know more about my life outside of the club than he did. If there was one thing I prided myself on up to this point, it was keeping my two lives separate.

Harry seemed to be changing that.

"Monkey?" I heard a knock on the door followed by my mom's voice and I glanced up in time to see my door being pushed open slightly and her head poking into my room. "Oh, you're still in bed? You're usually up and about by now."

"I'm having a lazy morning," I explained with a soft smile, shifting to sit up and setting my phone off to the side. "Are you off to work?"

She nodded, though she didn't move further into the room like I expected her to. "I wanted to come say goodbye before I headed out, but I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Mom, you're never bothering me. Come here," I instructed while motioning for her to step into the room, arms held open and waiting for a hug.

She smiled before entering and made her way to me, pulling me into a warm embrace and kissing the top of my head. "You be good to yourself today. You've been working so hard lately, you deserve a nice day off."

"One of these days, I'm going to force you to take a day off with me," I mumbled into the fabric of her shirt, my laughter muffled.

"You know I couldn't sit still even if my life depended on it."

With one last squeeze, she released me and I reluctantly did the same, watching her leave my room with one last wave. I listened as her footsteps in the hall faded and the sound of the front door closing echoed through the small apartment. I was alone now, with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. That wasn't going to end well.

I heard the text tone go off on my bedside table and quickly picked up my phone, hoping to see a new message from Harry, but was disappointed when it was only a reply from Olivia.

_"You got it, girl. Rest up! See you tomorrow night."_

Sighing, I forced myself out of bed and made my way into the kitchen, searching through cabinets to see if there was anything appealing to my current craving of God knows what, but was left with something to be desired at the stark nature of most of the cupboards. Item one on the agenda today would be to get lunch, item two would be grocery shopping. Maybe if I went about my day, I'd be able to forget about my phone for a little while and I'd be able to make myself feel better.

I went back to my room and got dressed, but decided to leave my makeup simple with a bit of foundation, eyeliner, and mascara. I didn't suspect I'd run into anybody that I knew, so I didn't think I'd have to make myself look like a runway model considering I was stopping at the diner and then going to the store before heading straight home. Besides, it complimented the simplicity of my white tank top and dark jean shorts.

Throwing my hair up into a ponytail, I made sure I had my purse and everything was inside before leaving the building and heading down the few blocks towards the diner. I could already feel the impending summer heat beating down onto the pavement and I was glad to get into the crisp icebox of the restaurant and out of the sun.

"Hey, Rita!" I called out, catching the plump woman behind the counter's attention. She seemed to be worried over something though and that caused my smile to falter. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing, sweetie," she assured me, trying to put on a smile for me, but I'd already caught onto the wrinkles creased into her forehead.

"Rita, don't lie to me. Is everything alright?" It was rare to see something bothering her, so I knew that whatever was going on had to be pretty serious.

"Oh, It's Mr. Babineaux. He's home with the flu, and I'm worried he's gonna get worse without me there to take care of him. Old fool couldn't cook himself a pot of grits without burning the pot to the stove," she explained with a sigh.

"Your husband's sick?" I reiterated and I immediately felt badly that she'd had to work today. "I took off from my other job tonight. If you want, I could take over the end of your shift so you can go home and check on him?"

Rita's eyes went a bit wide at my offer and she instinctively went to decline, but I noticed the way she stopped herself before replying and I could only assume it meant she was actually thinking over my offer. "Are you sure you wouldn't mind that, honey? I don't wanna take your day off away from you."

"I wouldn't have offered if I minded," I stated with a smile as I made my way around the counter and towards the kitchen doors. "Just give me about 20 minutes to eat and then I'll be good to go, okay?"

The look of relief that washed over her was payment enough for me, knowing I was able to take some stress of her shoulders after she'd done so many things for me in the past. "Your mama raised you well, Miss Mikayla. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. The least I could do."

Smiling, I made my way into the kitchen and asked Lorenzo to make me something quick to eat, which ended up being a grilled cheese and tomato soup. It wasn't anything spectacular, but I knew that once I was done with this shift, I could go to the store and get something more substantial into my system. For now, it would do fine.

Rita left and it meant I was the main waitress until Nalani got in around dinner time to take over. The lunch rush was stressful, but once it died down, the rest of the shift was pretty smooth sailing.

It was a little after 6 pm when the bell chimed twice above the door, signifying that two new customers had entered. I grabbed my pen and my pad of ticket orders to write on before turning to make my way to their table when I noticed a familiar set of curly dark hair and broad shoulders that made me stop in my tracks.

Harry was here, and he wasn't alone.

I couldn't see the face of the woman he was with since she sat with her back facing towards where I stood, but I could only assume it was his wife. Either that, or Harry wasn't as nice of a guy as I'd been led to believe, in which case I would have to rethink everything I'd been building up in my head about this image he'd presented.

Being the only waitress on staff at the moment, I knew I couldn't wait too long to get to them otherwise I'd be providing bad service, but part of me wondered how long I could stall until they'd notice. Nalani got her at 6:30 and it was just about 6:12 now, so that wasn't too bad, right? Well, considering the nearly empty diner, it would be incredibly noticeable if I only stood there staring.

Swallowing down the sour taste in my mouth, I pushed down whatever nerves that had built up in my stomach. Picking up two menus and sets of silverware, I made my way to their table.

"Welcome to Lorenzo's," I greeted with a forced smile, setting down their silverware and handing over their menus. "My name's Mikayla and I'll be your server today. What can I start you off with to drink?"

I caught the flicker of dread in Harry's eyes at the sound of my voice and if that wasn't a stab in the heart, then I didn't know what was. He smiled up at me, the polite and friendly one he'd given me when we first met, and I could tell he was acting like we'd never encountered one another before. "Hello, Mikayla. What would you like, Jas?"

So this was the infamous Jasmine. Glancing over towards her, I silently took in her face while she looked over the drinks section on the menu. She had flowing, silky smooth chestnut locks that fell in waves midway down her back, some of the clearest tan skin I'd ever seen, sparkling brown eyes, and she was slim and toned to boot. I couldn't help but notice the similarity in some of our features. I wasn't sure if it was wishful thinking or some sort of conceited attempt at figuring out if maybe Harry had a type that I fell in line with, but either way, she surpassed me in every department. She was absolutely gorgeous, and I couldn't help but feel jealous that she was seated there across from him with two silver rings situated on her finger and I wasn't.

I tried to pretend like I didn't notice the way Harry was addressing me like I was a complete stranger, forcing down whatever amount of recognition I may have held on my face. If he had to pretend like we didn't know each other for the sake of his marriage, then I could do that too.

"Do you have cranberry or tomato juice? I don't see it on the menu," Jasmine spoke up, catching my attention and I focused in on her again with a smile.

"I can check, but we may not have either if it's not listed on there," I explained, to which she let out a sigh and directed her next statement to Harry.

"I thought you said this place was great and had everything," she grumbled.

"Well, I didn't mean literally everything," Harry began, but his voice didn't hold the same confidence I was so used to hearing. Instead, he sounded much like a child too scared to talk back to their parent, and I could see why as Jasmine sent a glare over her menu towards him. "Why don't you get orange juice instead?"

"Because I don't want orange juice," she sighed in frustration. "The two aren't interchangeable."

My grip on my pencil tightened a bit, but I stayed silent. Harry wasn't lying when he said that she picked a fight about everything. Witnessing it up close made me feel even worse than when I'd heard him tell it, if only because the reality of it was staring me in the face and I still couldn't do anything to fix it. At least now I knew he wasn't telling me a sob story so I'd feel badly for him. That still didn't make up for the fact that he'd brought her here of all places.

Jasmine looked up at me with a tight-lipped and clearly forced smile. "I'll just take iced tea with lemon."

"Iced tea, got it. And for you, sir?" I looked over to Harry. Taking in his face, I could see a hint of desperation in his eyes and that tightness in my chest returned. I wanted to give him a reason to get out of this mess, but there was nothing I could offer him that would seem more appealing.

"Water is fine with me," he spoke softly before looking back down to his menu.

Swallowing hard, I nodded and quickly turned to make my way behind the counter so I could get their drinks and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in. Why was it so hard to see them together and why did it make me feel queasy being in the same room as them?

Once I'd steadied my shaking hands, I poured their drinks and brought them to their table, setting them down as carefully as I could. I didn't want to give her any other reasons to complain. "Have you guys decided what you'd like to eat yet, or should I give you a few more minutes to look over the menu?"

"I know what I'll be getting. What about you, love?" Harry asked Jasmine. The pet name hit like a ton of bricks and I was grateful that Nalani had chosen now of all times to make her way into the diner for work.

"If you'll excuse me just a moment," I spoke quickly before darting over towards my co-worker, taking hold of her arm and dragging her back into the kitchen.

"Whoa, where's the fire, Mikayla?" She laughed. "Is everything alright or...? You look like you're about to pass out."

"I need to leave," I started, untying the apron from behind my back and slipping it off. "I'm not feeling well."

"You don't look it," she said, taking the apron from me and tying it around her waist. "I've got it from here. Did the two in there order yet or--"

"No, but here's the pad and pencil. Good luck." I shoved the aforementioned items into her hands before I quickly left the kitchen, making my way out the front door of the diner without so much as a look in their direction.

If this is what having feelings for someone was supposed to feel like, then I wanted absolutely nothing to do with them.

The fresh air -- as fresh as the air in the city could get, anyway -- helped to calm my anxieties as I walked down towards the corner store. I knew the regular grocery store would be closed by now, but I could get the essentials I needed from there and get the rest tomorrow. For now, I just needed something to tide me over and get my mind off of the events that had just taken place.

It took about 45 minutes of shopping and stalling before I managed to will myself back to the apartment. I knew I’d have to pass by the diner again and potentially see the two in the window, so I wanted to delay that inevitability for as long as possible. I stopped by Starbucks and got myself a frappuccino and piece of marble cake, then started on my trek back home.

The diner came into view and I chanced a look only to find that the booth the two had been in was empty, forcing a sigh of relief from me. Either I’d spent enough time out and about that they’d finished their meals and left or Jasmine had complained enough that they ended up leaving early. Either way, I was glad that they were gone and I finished walking the few blocks it took to get to my building.

I walked into the lobby and was about to head over to the stairs when I heard Mike calling my name from his office. I paused and looked over my heart stopped as they landed on Harry standing in the doorway of the landlord’s office, smiling over at me hesitantly.

“This is the guy that sent you those flowers, huh?” Mike asked with a grin and I nodded a bit, but didn’t say anything. “Well, he was waiting for you to get back, so you can take him off my hands now.”

“Thank you for speaking with me, Mike. It was a pleasure to meet you.” Harry reached his hand out towards Mike, who took it and shook it firmly before he made his way over towards me. “You, erm… You said you wanted to talk in your message.”

“I did,” I replied softly. I could feel the weight of the bags even more on my hands, probably because they were now slightly shaking. From what, I wasn’t sure. At first, it seemed like it was out of a strong desire to get out of whatever conversation was going to ensue, but there was also another sensation bubbling up in me that I hadn’t wanted to acknowledge in the past hour: anger.

The silence was too much for Harry to stand because he cleared his throat and sheepishly ran his hands along the back of his neck, unsure of what to do in that moment. “Do you need help with your bags?”

“No.” I did, but I didn’t want to accept help from him. I could feel the walls that I’d been letting down with him over the past couple of weeks being built back up quickly.

It was easy to see that Harry was taken aback by my answer, brows furrowed and tongue flicking out to wet his lips while he attempted to read me. “Are you angry with me?”

No shit.

“No,” I said again, but left my answer at that, turning towards the stairs and beginning to ascend. I heard the clamour of his large shoes beating against the hard floors and then the steps as he took two at a time to reach my side, but I kept my gaze forward and tried not to look at him.

“What have I done?” His voice was earnest and it almost made me want to respond. Almost. “M’sorry I didn’t call you back. I never had the chance… I was either at work or Jas was around and I--”

“Why would I care about you calling me back? You have no obligation to do that whatsoever,” I replied, but still my attention was elsewhere. Anywhere but him.

“I don’t know, but you’re not exactly giving me any hints here either,” he insisted with a sigh. I caught him running his fingers through his hair and biting his lip from the corner of my eye, so once we got to the second floor landing, I stopped and faced him.

“Do you want to know why I’m mad, Harry?” I asked, voice firm, and watched him nod quickly, though he had taken a step back. “Because you took your wife to our place -- _our_ place -- and expected me to be okay with it. Or maybe you assumed Rita or someone else would be working so I wouldn’t find out? Either way, it’s a slap in the fucking face to feel like I’ve got something special with someone only to find out that they don’t treat it like it’s anything. _That’s_ why I’m mad.”

I turned on my heels and hurried the rest of the way up the staircase until I was at my floor and for the first few moments I didn’t hear any footsteps following me, but that was short lived when I turned the corner to my apartment and heard the doorway of the stairwell being pushed open a second time and Harry came trailing behind me.

“Mikayla, can you let me explain?” he pleaded. I ignored him while struggling to get my keys from my pockets, hoping that if I stayed silent he would leave me alone, but he began speaking again. “I didn’t have a choice. She found the receipt and started to get suspicious, so I told her I took a co-worker there and then she insisted I take her so she could check the place out herself.”

I had been fumbling with my keys, trying to get the right one so I could unlock the door when I felt his hand on mine, stopping it from shaking. I swallowed hard as the weight of the bags I’d been holding disappeared, but I still didn’t look over to him.

“I couldn’t call you because she was watching me like a hawk and I didn’t… I didn’t want you to get wrapped up in all of this. I didn’t know you’d be working, otherwise I would’ve warned you ahead of time.” He shifted the bags in his grasp, using his free one to help me guide the key into the lock.

I knew the conversation that we needed to have wasn’t one to have in the hall, but I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to bring him inside when I felt this way. Then there was the part of me what was wondering if I even had a right to feel the way that I did. He wasn’t mine. I didn’t have any claim on him, or on the diner for that matter, so was it fair to be this upset with him over something that he probably didn’t realize the significance of?

“Thank you,” I finally managed to mutter. My voice was barely audible, but I knew that he heard it when I caught a slight nod from the corner of my eye.

I took in a deep breath before carefully unlocking the door and stepping inside, flipping on the light. I suddenly grew conscious of everything that was out of place and silently wondered if Harry would judge the condition of my home. He didn’t seem the type, but I kept my concerns to myself while heading into the kitchen, setting the few bags I had left in my hand onto the counter.

“Can I get you anything?” I asked politely, finally looking over in time to see him following my lead and setting the bags he’d taken from me onto the counter carefully.

“Do you have coffee, by any chance?”

I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, shaking my head. “So you’ll make my life easy with water at the diner, but not here?” I joked, but I walked to the cabinet that held the plethora of teas that my mom had collected over the past couple of years. “We don’t, but I’ve got plenty of tea to offer you, if that’s your thing.”

“I think I could go for tea, yeah,” Harry chuckled as well, stepping up beside me to observe the variety of flavors. I was glad he’d let my outburst go for now, but I knew I’d have to apologize eventually for it.

I made myself busy while he made a decision by grabbing the kettle and filling it with water, giving him more time and allowing the water more time to boil once it was on the stove. I glanced over to see he was still observing the cabinet and smiled, grabbing out two tea mugs. “Find anything yet?”

“Peachberry Jasmine Sutra green tea sounds… interesting.” Pulling the box from the cabinet, he tugged a tea bag out and set it into one of the mugs.

“It’s really good. My favorite’s the raspberry zinger though. Just enough sweetness, but not too much,” I explained, grabbing said tea from the cupboard and putting the tea bag into the remaining empty mug.

“I’ll have to give it a try sometime.”

And with that, there was silence. We were waiting for the water, and I knew that I had plenty to say, but I didn’t know how to start it off, especially after everything went down earlier today. Licking my lips, I was about to speak up when the kettle began to whistle.

I quickly grabbed it and poured out the water into the two mugs, looking over towards him when I set it aside. “Do you want milk or sugar? I think we may have some honey and lemon somewhere too, but I can’t guarantee it.”

“I’m alright, thanks,” he said with his hand held up, shaking his head.

I grabbed two teaspoons, handed one to him, and once I’d prepared my tea the way I liked it, I motioned for him to follow me to the living room. I took a seat on the couch, he sat on the other cushion, and I stared down at my tea, stirring it slowly.

“So… You wanted to talk to me about something?” Harry started and I felt the tension in my shoulders rise a bit.

“Yeah, it’s… It’s not important,” I responded, shaking my head. What could I say? I couldn’t admit that I was falling for him after yelling at him not even half an hour ago.

“Are you sure?” He was clearly worried and I nodded, sending a soft smile in his direction. “Well… I missed you.”

“You did?”

“Mhm. I wanted to talk to you, but I was working or Jasmine was around. Not much time to really talk with someone without somebody asking questions, y’know?”

Chuckling, I nodded a bit and blew lightly at my tea to cool it down before taking a sip. I could understand him not wanting to bring attention to me, especially at how confrontational Jasmine always seemed to be. In a way, I should’ve appreciated the fact that he didn’t want to involve me in that drama, but it would’ve been nice to know at the very least.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier,” I finally said, looking over towards him. “I’m… I’m not used to this. Whatever this is. You’re the first friend I’ve had outside of work, and I guess the fact that I thought you were bringing her into something that was supposed to be ours made me feel threatened. Probably the only child in me, not wanting to share,” I joked, laughing a bit.

I waited for any kind of response and I noticed the way he seemed to smile while sipping on his own drink before setting the mug down onto a coaster on the coffee table. “S’alright, I understand. Like I said, I would’ve warned you if I’d known you would be there tonight.”

Nodding slowly, I paused in my train of thought when I realized something off about our current situation. “Where is she?”

“Oh, right. I had to take her to JFK,” he explained and the reason why they were both in Brooklyn made a lot more sense now. “The dance troupe she’s in is traveling this summer, so she’s flying out from there and I’m alone for a few months starting today. Which reminds me… What are you doing next week?”

I raised my brow at his question and tried to think about my schedule, but nothing particularly special stuck out to me. “Just working, like always. Why?”

“My sister’s getting married and I’m meant to go, but I RSVPed for two assuming Jas would go along.” I could tell he seemed bitter at that fact and part of me wondered if Jasmine knew about the wedding when she’d agreed to go around with the troupe. I couldn’t blame her if dancing was part of her dream, though. It did make me feel badly that Harry was left scrambling to figure out what to do in place of it, so I continued listening, wondering if he was going to ask what I assumed he would. “Since she’s gone, I was wondering if you’d like to come with me? If you can. I know it’s incredibly last minute and I wouldn’t want to steal you away from anything important.”

The offer was incredibly tempting. A getaway with the guy that I wanted to learn more about, meeting his family, and learning more about where he came from? It’s exactly what I’d been hoping to do from the start, but there had to be some sort of catch to it all. “What would I need to do in order to make this happen?”

“As long as you have a passport, nothing. Everything would be covered, including your plane ticket. All you’d need to do is accompany me,” he explained, staring hopefully at me.

Though I’d never traveled far from New York, I had gotten a passport last year when Adora decided she wanted the girls to spend a day in Canada out of the blue. She had planned it for ages while we waited for my passport to be processed, and ever since then it had been sitting somewhere in my dresser drawer, collecting dust.

“I’ll have to let Liv know,” I began, but before I could finish my thought, Harry’s face was already breaking out in a grin and that damn dimple distracted me and brought a smile to my own face.

“Perfect! This will be absolutely perfect. My sister will love you. She can’t stand Jas, honestly,” he laughed.

Then he was carrying on about all of the things we could do once we arrived and I couldn’t help but admire the way he seemed so much more full of life than he had been in the diner. If this is what I needed to do in order to get that beautiful smile of his to come out, then I think I could manage that.

If only it had remained that simple.


	8. Use Somebody

"I hate flying."

"We haven't even gotten on the plane, Mikayla."

"It's a preemptive complaint," I grumbled to myself as I watched the seats in the terminal filling up around us with other passengers.

In a way, I suppose I was taking inventory. Seeing who we'd have to deal with in a small enclosed space for the next 7 hours was a good way to pass the time, and it also helped me gauge how irritating the flight would end up being. There didn't seem to be many red flags, save for the toddler whose waddle screamed of a diaper that needed changing, and I silently prayed they'd be sitting far away from where we were seated towards the back of the plane.

"You'll be fine," Harry reassured me and I felt his hand over mine, stopping me from nervously picking at my nail beds. "You've really never been on a plane before?"

Heaving a sigh, I looked over at him with pursed lips. "Realistically, Harry, when would I ever need to fly anywhere?"

"You have a point." Harry scrunched his brows a bit at his own question and there was a part of me that wanted to smile at the gesture, and I would have if I didn't feel like I was going to puke any minute.

"When do we board? I want to get this over with." I quickly checked the marquee board hung on the wall by the door I assumed led to the plane, hoping there'd be some indication of when they'd be letting us on, but I was only met with a notifier that alerted us to our flight being on time.

"Should be starting any minute now..." Harry mumbled and his voice trailed off, covered by the sounds of rustling through something. I looked back to see him checking his bag, searching for something. It only took a moment before he tugged a small orange prescription bottle from a gallon-sized ziplock bag and handed me a blue pill, causing me to give him a questioning look.

"What is this?"

"A Xanax. I think you need it more than I do right now," he chuckled, tucking his things away once more into his carry on and setting the bag by his feet.

I raised a brow, looking him over for a moment. He seemed so casual about it, the way he reached for and tipped the bottle with ease, but I had noticed how many pills were in the bottle and wondered quietly how long he'd been dealing with anxiety and if it was part of a bigger problem he dealt with. I couldn't linger on the thought though or I'd run my nerves ragged, so I pulled the small water bottle I'd bought on the way to the terminal out and took the pill without another moment of hesitation, not wanting him to grow concerned. If anything, it made me realize that there were still plenty of sides of Harry that I didn't know anything about, but I hoped this trip would help help shine a light on some of them.

It felt like an eternity before we were able to board the plane and I was happy to see that the third seat in our row never got filled before take off, giving us ample room to relax. I decided to keep my backpack down between my feet since I didn't want to continually scoot past Harry's legs when I needed something. I also figured that with my luck, we'd hit a patch of turbulence and I'd end up in his lap with my face red as a tomato.

Harry was fiddling with the earbuds the airline provided and plugged them into the small control panel stationed in the arm of his seat then started flipping through the menu of in flight movies on the screen in front of him. I watched him quietly, admiring the way he seemed to be so at ease now compared to the diner the other day and wondering what it was that made him stay. There had to be a good reason; I don't think anybody would be able to understand why someone would stay in a bad situation without some solid justification.

Then again, I wasn't exactly the poster girl for that sort of thing either. With how Richie treated me like an object he could use for his own gain more than a person, many would wonder why I'd continue working for him and giving him the satisfaction. I could've gone somewhere else to work, to another club that treated their dancers more fairly. I had even considered it, many times, after long nights with strange men left me resisting the urge to cry on the bus. But Bliss was home. Bliss was where my girls were, and the money was good even though it wasn't always steady. If that meant having to deal with Richie using me for money or sex once in awhile, then I could put up with it.

Turning, I looked out the open window and watched the tarmac for a few moments until I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked over to see Harry smiling at me, glancing past me through the window as well. "You sure you don't mind the window seat?"

"I'm sure," I said with a nod. "I want to see how the plane works when taking off. I don't know, I'm hoping it'll make me feel better."

"If you wanna switch seats at any point, let me know." He smiled and took my hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. "It'll be alright. We'll be there before you know it."

Soon enough, we were in the air and on the way to Heathrow. I had to get used to the idea that we were thousands of feet in the air and above the ocean for awhile, but the Xanax he'd given me had helped to calm me down significantly to the point where I was able to fall asleep about an hour into the flight. Aside from waking up to have the meal the airline offered, I slept most of the way.

"Mikayla?" Harry's soft voice drifted into my dreamless sleep and I felt him carefully shaking my shoulder to rouse me. Blinking awake slowly, I realized that my head had somehow found its way to his shoulder. Quickly, I sat up straight and covered my embarrassment with a hand-covered yawn, which seemed to make Harry laugh. "You sleep alright? You looked cozy."

"Yeah," I replied, my face surely a shade of red by this point. "Sorry I used you as a pillow."

"Don't worry about it. I didn't mind," he assured me.

I looked at him and smiled a bit before noticing everyone else was gathering their things from the overhead bins. "Did we land?"

"We did," he said with a nod, standing up from his seat and turning his phone back on. "I think... Yeah, Niall's gonna be waiting for us once we get through customs."

"Niall?" I asked with a raised brow, making sure I had everything in my bag before I pulled it onto my shoulders. He'd given me a list of names that I'd need to know before we left New York, but I hadn't gotten a chance to look it over since I'd slept for so long. "That's your sister's fiancé, right?"

"My best friend first and foremost, but yeah," he chuckled, looking over at me once he'd tucked his phone away. "He's excited to meet you."

"He is?" Did that mean Harry had told his family about me? There was that familiar fluttering feeling in my chest, the same one I'd gotten that first night at the diner, and my smile grew at the thought. "I hope I don't disappoint."

"You won't. Just be yourself and they'll love you."

I hoped he was right. I didn't want a rare trip home for him, something that was meant to be a good thing, to turn into an experience he'd want to forget.

Making our way off the plane and through customs took significantly longer than I had expected. There were a few times while we were waiting for our bags that Harry rested his hand on the small of my back, but I tried not to think too much of it. I didn't want to get my hopes up that it was anything more than an action done absentmindedly. Maybe he was used to doing it with Jasmine that it came almost like second nature, though considering she seemed as cuddly as a cactus I found it hard to believe that would be the case.

We walked down a few corridors before we neared the proper exit and the pick-up area came into view. Standing almost front and center was a man who looked about my height with a shit-eating grin on his face, blond hair with brown roots spiked up in the front, and a cardboard sign grasped in his hands that spelled out the words "HAZZA" in what looked like fluorescent paints, an illustration of three stick figures holding hands beneath it.

Harry's laugh was loud and a higher pitch than I'd ever heard it as soon as he'd seen the sign and he jogged the last few feet to reach the male and pull him into a tight embrace. In all the time I'd spent with him, I'd never seen him look as happy as he did in that moment, holding on tightly to his best friend and both letting out loud fits of laughter.

"Did you love my sign or what?" The shorter of the two asked, giving Harry a squeeze of a hug. "Thought I'd make your homecoming extra memorable."

"You're an idiot," Harry spoke affectionately, patting the blond's shoulder before pulling back to look at him again. "You haven't dyed in a while, have you? Gem's slacking."

"Nah I haven't," Niall chuckled, running his fingers quickly over his head. "She's said she likes the brown lately, so I've been growing it out."

"Course you would." Harry smiled and looked over towards me, placing his hand on the small of my back again to bring me in closer to join them. “Niall, this is Mikayla.”

“Mikayla!” Niall exclaimed and I jumped a bit, startled at how exuberant he was as he pulled me into a big hug. I returned it after a moment, though I was still trying to process what was happening by the time he pulled away, grin on his face. “Harry’s told me loads about you already.”

“Good things, I hope,” I said, glancing over to Harry whose cheeks seemed to be tinged a shade of pink, unless my eyes were deceiving me.

“All good, no worries. Don’t think he could ever say a mean thing about anyone without apologising right after,” he chuckled. Reaching forward, he grabbed the handle of my suitcase from my hand and though I protested, he insisted he take it and then motioned for us to follow him out to the car.

The two talked rapidly once we’d gotten into the car, bouts of laughter filling the car the whole three hour drive up to Holmes Chapel. I stayed quiet and settled in the back seat, only because I didn’t want to interrupt and I had nothing pertinent to add to the conversation, and I watched them as they went back and forth, Niall updating him on how things had changed since Harry had last been home. There was a hint of sadness tinged in Harry’s tone, one I don’t think the blond noticed, but if anything it was obvious to me that Harry had missed being here. I know if I were in his position, I’d feel as if I’d missed out on so much being away for so long.

“Mikayla, what do you do for a living?” Niall’s voice interrupted my train of thought and I felt my eyes go wide. I hadn’t actually thought about them asking me what I did or about my past, but now I had to think quickly on excuses.

“She’s a waitress,” I heard Harry respond before I could even manage to open my mouth and I was grateful that I hadn’t ended up putting my foot in my mouth. “A little diner in Brooklyn called Lorenzo’s. It’s got incredible food.”

“You’ve gotta take me when we move out that way, yeah?” Niall said with a grin.

“You’re moving to New York?” I asked, smiling warmly.

“Yeah, we’re gonna move out there sometime soon. At least that’s the plan right now,” he chuckled. “We’ve been savin’ up so we can open up our own tattoo place,” Niall explained.

I recalled something that Harry had told me a couple weeks back about opening his own place with a friend and my smile grew, glancing over to Niall. “You don’t seem the type to have tattoos.”

“Oh, I’m not. I haven’t got any,” he laughed. 

“He’s better with numbers than I am, so he’s doing more of the financial stu--”

“All of the financial stuff,” Niall corrected and Harry rolled his eyes, glancing back towards me with a smile.

“Alright, he’s doing _all_ of the financial stuff, I do the hiring of artists and the like. We’re gonna do the promo and advertising together,” Harry finished, eyes lit up and dimple deep in his cheek.

“S’gonna be real good. You’ll havta be our first customer, Mik. Is it okay if I call you Mik?” Niall asked, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, that’s fine. My friends usually call me that.”

“Or Mikki.” I noticed the way that Harry almost seemed to flinch after he spoke, as if he realized what he’d just done. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was ashamed of the way we met or if he wanted me to be the one to decide whether or not we revealed that information, but he seemed to be protective of my secret and I sent him a reassuring smile to let him know it was okay.

At least Niall hadn’t noticed. He pulled the car off the main road and the trees became far more dense as we went through the countryside. He pulled up into the driveway of a large brick-faced house, grinning. “Here we are. You two go on in, I’ll get your stuff out and put it up in the rooms.”

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?” I asked, unbuckling and grabbing my backpack.

Niall shook his head, shutting off the car. “No worries. Anne and Gem are dying to meet ya.”

“C’mon, love,” Harry said, slipping out of the car and opening up the back door for me, holding his hand out. I took it and followed suite, feet hitting the pavement and looking around at the house. They had a lot of open land and the house was relatively secluded, so I could only imagine how quiet it must be here at nights compared to the city. It made me wonder why anybody would give this up for the hustle and bustle.

“I don’t have any time to make myself look presentable, do I?” I whispered, biting my lip. Harry looked down towards me, brow raised and a chuckle falling from his pink lips.

“Why would you need to do that? You always look beautiful,” he mumbled.

I couldn’t help but let a small blush rise to my cheeks at the compliment, but I shook my head and averted my gaze to keep him from seeing. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do. I promise, you look great and you’ll be fine,” Harry assured me, then pulled the front door open.

We walked inside and the aroma of roast filled the air, sounds of movement and laughter coming from the kitchen. Harry’s face lit up and he quickly headed to the kitchen, grabbing my hand to lead me through the house. He slowly approached the entrance, holding back a grin by biting onto his bottom lip.

Inside the kitchen were two women, the older one with dark hair swept up into a messy ponytail and the younger a similar shade fading into a blonde ombre, and they were chatting away as they placed things into decorative bowls and on large platters. They resemblance between them all was almost eerie.

Clearing his throat, Harry stood up a bit taller and smirked. “Are you two gonna come say hi or what?”

The women looked up and released squeals, running over to him with arms wide open. Harry laughed and his long arms wrapping around the both of them and holding them close, even picking them up off the ground for a moment before setting them back on their feet.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’ve made it!” Anne sighed happily, looking up at him and brushing loose wisps of her fringe out of her face. “How was the flight? Not too long, I hope.” Then her attention turned towards me and her smile grew. “You’re Mikayla, right?”

“I am, yeah. Thank you for allowing me into your home,” I said and politely held my hand out, but Anne pushed past my hand and pulled me into an embrace which I gladly returned. I could see where Harry got his affectionate nature from.

“You are more than welcome,” Anne cooed, giving me a squeeze before pulling away.

“Yeah, H needed a date for the wedding anyway,” Gemma piped up, reaching out to take my hand and give it a shake. She leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Between you and me, I’m glad it’s you and not the stay-in-bed wife.”

I had to resist laughing, but it was incredibly difficult and I felt some sort of selfish gratification that I was already liked more than Jasmine and Gemma barely knew me. “Well, I’m really excited to be there, and if you need any help whatsoever, just let me know.”

“I’m going in for the final fittings with my bridesmaids in two days. I think you should come with,” she suggested, brows raised with a smile. “We’ll go out for brunch and all that afterwards and I can get to know you better. Of course we’ll ask you questions tonight, but most of it will be spent embarrassing that one.”

“Heeeey, don’t do that. I’ve not been home for ages,” Harry whined with a pout. “Are you really gonna show her embarrassing photos of me?”

“I hadn’t thought about that, but that sounds a lot better than what I was thinking. Follow me!” Gemma exclaimed with a laugh, pulling me along to the living room.

Gemma didn’t have a chance to show me too many pictures before we were called in for dinner, but there were enough for me to learn that Harry had been blond with straight hair until he was a couple years old and that he was an incredibly adorable kid who enjoyed being the center of attention. The five of us ate dinner around the dining room table, joined by Anne’s husband, Robin. I’d thought that I would end up feeling out of place with Harry’s family, but they made me feel like I belonged among them. I felt more relaxed than I had in awhile, knowing that Harry was happy and surrounded by people he loved.

After dinner, we gathered in the living room and they all regaled me with stories of how Harry was as a child. Niall told me that the two met while in primary school on vacation and have been inseparable since. Niall and Gemma had always had some feelings for each other, but they really came together when Harry moved away, which is when they finally began dating. Robin and Anne had been together since Harry was 14 and though he didn’t say much, he was incredibly kind and had a great sense of humor. A photo album was pulled out and I flipped through it with Harry, poking fun at the composition of his younger outfits. We stayed like this until the others retired to their rooms.

“You were a very cute kid,” I spoke softly, glancing over towards him.

He chuckled, closing the album with a small shake of his head. “Am I not cute now?”

“Am I allowed to say that you are or will you-know-who jump out of the woodwork and take off my head?”

“Considering your pretty little head is still on your shoulders, I think you’ll be fine.” He grinned. Standing up, he brought the album back up to the shelf and tucked it away. “We can look at some more tomorrow if you want, but unlike you, I didn’t sleep on the plane and I’m about to fall on my face.”

“That tired, huh?” I asked as I stood, stretching and feeling a few pops in my legs.

“I am.” Making his way over toward me, he motioned for me to follow with him. “C’mon, I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.”

Nodding, I followed him up to the second level of the house. He walked down the hall and pointed out the bathroom to me, stopping outside of a room and flipping on the light inside. The room was cozy, a queen-sized bed positioned near the window, a desk, and a dresser being the only major pieces of furniture inside. My things sat at the foot of the bed and I made a mental note to thank Niall again for that later.

Turning around, I noticed Harry standing in the doorway of the room across the hall, staring into it quietly as he took it in. I approached slowly and rested my hand on his shoulder, which caught his attention and he turned to look at me with a soft smile. “It’s just the way I left it.”

I looked past him into his bedroom and then carefully moved inside, taking in the surroundings. There were posters hanging on the wall, the Lord of the Rings poster hanging above his bed the most notable and I looked to him with a smirk. “Tolkien fan?”

“The movies were some of my favourites, yeah” he chuckled, moving over to sit down on the bed. “I’m a secret nerd. You’ve found out my secret.”

“Somehow, that isn’t surprising in the least,” I laughed, biting my lip to hold back a smile.

“Heeeey…” Harry sent a playful glare in my direction and I moved to sit down beside him on the bed, taking in the pictures all around.

You could learn a lot about someone about how their room was decorated and judging by the things strewn about and drawings on the wall, his love for art had been something he’d cultivated at a young age. I looked over to him and noticed he had been watching me, which caused me to give him a questioning look.

“What?” My voice was soft and I ran my tongue out along my bottom lip.

“Nothing,” he replied, smiling slowly. “We should get some rest.”

“You’re probably right,” I said with a slight nod. Though I knew he was keeping something from me, I tried not to think about it too much. I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.

Without any warning, Harry leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, lips lingering for a few moments before he pulled away. “Goodnight, Mikayla.”

Swallowing hard, I had to process what had happened before I could manage to form words to say in response. “Goodnight, Harry.”

Standing up from his bed, I made my way towards the door and closed it behind me, walking across into the guest room again. I didn’t do my usual nighttime routine, only brushed my teeth and washed my face before I curled up in bed. I pulled out my phone and sent a message to mom to let her know I’d arrived safely, then shut it off to keep from running up data charges of any kind.

I had only been in the UK for a few hours, but I already knew that it was going to be hard to leave. I was going to make the most out of this week away from my responsibilities and worries back home and focus on Harry. This trip was for him and if there was one thing I knew I could do, it was to make it a worthwhile trip by doing whatever it was he wanted to do. I drifted off with a full belly and cozy sheets, the feeling of Harry’s lips still lingering on my skin.


	9. A Daydream Away

We were given the chance to sleep-in the following morning and adjust to the five hour time difference, though I seemed to need it more than Harry did since he was typically an early riser anyway. Despite Robin having to be at work, Anne had whipped up an amazing traditional English spread for breakfast consisting of our choices of bacon and sausage, poached eggs, tomatoes, hash browns, beans, and toast with butter and jam. We had a variety of drink choices as well ranging from milk and orange juice -- she knew it’s what we typically had in America along with our meals and she wanted to make me as comfortable as possible, bless her heart -- to coffee and tea.

I’d never in my life had a starting meal that was as hearty as this one and a part of me almost felt guilty for it, as if I were overindulging even though she insisted I eat as much as I’d like to have. Growing up, we never ate much meat. Mom figured if she was going to spend money on groceries, she’d want to buy the quality food that would keep me healthy, and stuck mostly to chicken and fish if she had a little extra in her paycheck to spare. I’d gotten used to that diet, but explaining why I wasn’t a fan of the darker meats was much more complicated when you didn’t want to reveal your financial situation than simply stating I was a vegetarian. People seemed to understand that and wouldn’t ask questions that way, which is what I preferred.

So I opted out of the bacon and sausage and ate a little bit of everything else, wanting to get a taste for the typical English experience. We were sat outside on the back patio overlooking the garden where a couple of animals roamed, a couple of pheasants the most notable addition to the scenery. It really was peaceful out here and that usual tension I felt in my shoulders wasn’t there. I could completely understand why Harry missed being here.

“Mum, where’s Gemma?” Harry mumbled, his voice still gravelly with sleep despite the tea he was sipping on.

“She’s in the office, calling everywhere to make sure everything’s in order. You know how she gets with these sorts of things,” Anne chuckled, smiling and setting her own mug down onto the table. “Wants to make sure everything’s perfect for Friday.”

“It’s her wedding, so I can’t say I blame her,” he commented with a small yawn. “What else has she got left to do before then?”

“I think she’s still got her final fitting later this afternoon, so she’s going to meet the other girls at the shop and then they’ll do late lunch, be back for supper. That’s the plan anyway. You never know with her, she’ll probably find some place to stop along the way.” She looked over towards me and I unconsciously raised my brows in expectation. “Would you be interested in going along? There isn’t too much to do up here, and I’m sure you’d probably rather be out and about exploring rather than sitting here after coming all this way.”

“Oh, I don’t mind either way,” I said hastily, trying to be as polite as possible. I didn’t want to come across as a homebody, but part of me was nervous to leave Harry’s side. Harry’s family was lovely, but I barely knew them and I felt much more comfortable when I knew that Harry was there in case I needed a safety net of some sort. I couldn’t picture him coming along on this trip either.

“You should go,” Harry spoke up and I looked over towards him, seeing the soft smile on his lips. “You and Gem got on well enough last night. Her friends are all pretty similar to her as well, so you’d fit right in.”

“You think so?” With his reassurance, I was already considering going. I don’t know why I seemed to seek his approval on these things, but I think subconsciously I assumed he had better insight on these things since he knew his family better than I did. “Well… Maybe. If she’s okay with it.”

“If who’s okay with what?” Gemma’s voice entered the conversation and we all turned to see her stepping out through the back door to come and join us at the table, a certain skip in her step.

“We were telling Mikayla she should go down with you today,” Anne responded with a smile. Gemma looked over towards me, tilting her head a bit with an amused grin on her face.

“So they’re already trying to pawn you off on me? Must’ve annoyed them pretty easily,” she joked and we both laughed, though hers was much fuller than my own. “Of course I’d be fine with it. Besides, we can talk about girl things while we’re out. Can’t do that with Big Foot over there snooping around.”

“Heeeey,” Harry whined. It was hard to resist laughing and I brought my hand up over my mouth to keep it hidden, but he noticed right away, narrowing his eyes at me. “I’m not talking to you.”

“Such a big baby,” Gemma chuckled around the piece of toast she’d bitten off and shoved into her cheek.

I sent a face across the table to him, nose scrunched, and he returned the favor with tongue stuck out, folding his arms across his chest and a small ‘hmph’ leaving him. When I was finished making faces at the man across from me, I turned to face Gemma once more. “When should we leave?” 

She thought for a moment while chewing her food, swallowing it before speaking up. “Train takes about two and a half hours, so if you’d be ready to go by quarter past 11, that’d work best.”

“I should go get ready then. I want to make sure I look alright.” The comment itself was self-deprecating in a sense and I could tell Harry caught on because he sent me a look that I wasn’t sure how to read while I stood.

“You always look incredible, Mikayla,” he said low, but everyone at the table was still able to hear it.

I felt my face grow warm and instead of saying anything, I quickly gathered my dishes and made my way inside. I already knew that Gemma wasn’t fond of Jasmine, but I had no idea how Anne felt about her and I didn’t want either of them thinking that anything was actually going on between us behind his wife’s back. Other than the kiss on the cheek I’d given him after our night at the diner and the one on the forehead he’d given me last night, we’d barely had much contact that wouldn’t be considered friendly. We’d hardly crossed the platonic line, even though my intentions behind joining him on this trip may not have been with the most platonic of thought processes.

I set my things in the sink and made my way upstairs, opting to take a quick shower to at least scrub down my body after yesterday, and then went about getting my face done up and dressed. I met Gemma downstairs when I was finished and Anne dropped us off at the train station where we boarded and were off to the city.

I stared out the window, watching the countryside pass by and admiring the scenery when I heard Gemma clear her throat, pulling my attention away and back to her.

"So," she began and I noticed one of those knowing smirks on her lips as she flipped through a magazine she'd grabbed at the station. "What's going on between you and my brother?"

"What?" I was taken aback by the question. "There's... Nothing's going on."

"Is that why he looks at you like you've hung the sun in the sky then?" She asked, glancing over towards me, sizing me up as if she were looking for a tell-tale sign that I was lying.

Swallowing hard, I averted my gaze for a moment and tried to think of what to say. Did he really look at me that way or was she exaggerating? "I've never noticed before..."

"Probably because he does it when you're not looking," she explained with a quick shrug, looking back at her magazine. "Have you ever even met Jasmine?"

"I..." Would you count the time in the diner? Technically I'd met her, but she didn't know what significance -- if any -- I held in Harry's life at the time. I'm sure if she did, that first encounter would've been much different. "Not really."

Gemma's face grew more amused by the minute and I felt even more flustered at that fact. "I noticed he's not wearing his ring anymore."

"He isn't?"

Gemma shook her head and I thought back to all the moments since we'd left New York. Not once could I pinpoint a time when I'd paid attention to his ring and maybe that did mean he hadn't been wearing it anymore.

"So, if I'm getting this straight... you've hung out with him a lot on your own, you've never met his wife, he's brought you all the way out here to meet the family, _and_ he's no longer wearing his ring?" After going over the information, I nodded slowly, watching her to see her shake her head slowly. "Never thought I'd see the day..."

"What do you mean?" I asked softly, though I already had a general idea of where she was going with this.

"I never actually thought he'd decide to leave her. He's been miserable for years, then you come along and he's like his old self again," she said as though it were obvious.

"I wouldn't go as far to say he's leaving her," I spoke up quickly, not wanting to get my hopes up despite the pounding in my rib cage. "I mean, maybe... Maybe they just need the time away from each other and things will be okay."

Closing the magazine, she let out a soft sigh. "That won't help. They're not good for each other anymore. Haven't been for awhile."

I watched her for a moment, unsure if she was going to continue. Gemma clearly knew more than I did about their relationship and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious to learn as much as I could about it. There had to be legitimate reasons why Gemma didn't like Jasmine. "What happened between them?"

"A lot." Gemma ran her fingers through her hair, leaning back in the seat. "A few years ago, mum got ill. Breast cancer at first, then she became anemic, so she was in and out of the hospital. It hit us all pretty hard, but especially H. He's always been a mumma's boy and it was during exams, so lots of stress all around. He went into a really dark place... It was quite scary."

The experience sounded all too familiar up to that point. Looking at Anne today, you would've never thought she'd been through something like that. She was all smiles, looked to be the picture of health, but looks were always deceiving. It wasn't exactly something to bond over, but at least I could take some comfort in the fact that Harry would understand what I'd been through if I were to ever tell him about my mom.

"I had to come home from uni to help take care of him while Robin focused on mum," Gemma continued. "Jas was there through it all and was really helpful, so I didn't mind her at first. She helped him, he barely scraped through with exams, and she made sure he did what he needed to graduate since it was mum's one wish, in case things..." Her voice trailed off. I reached my hand over and placed it on top of hers, a silent sign of understanding.

Licking her lips, she let out a sigh before carrying on. "She really seemed to care about him then, but then she started to use the whole thing against him. Basically guilt tripped him into doing whatever she wanted because she chose to be there for him when he was going through a rough time. She still does it. It's how she convinced him to move so far away from home," she explained, brow furrowed together in frustration. "I guess he feels like he owes it to her to stick around since she did for him or something. He's always been really faithful to everyone in his life, so I'm not surprised he's stuck it out, but... I dunno. I don't think I'll ever actually understand it. I wouldn't put up with someone treating me that way."

"It sounds like she got into his head when he was still struggling," I said softly, more to myself. I knew that one-sided accounts of the situation were never completely accurate, so hearing it from an outside party always made me weary.

Selfishly, I wanted to believe her. I wanted there to be some reason why Jasmine was terrible so that I could show Harry he deserved better, but I owed it to myself and to that part of Jasmine that Harry had initially fallen for -- if it still existed -- to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Just... Take care of him for me, yeah?" Gemma's meek voice broke the silence between us and I looked over to see the concern evident in her face. "He's my baby brother.I hate not being able to do anything for him."

"I'll do my best," I offered with a soft smile, giving her hand a squeeze. Gemma returned the gesture and let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

"He hates when I call him that, y'know. Don't tell him I said anything."

My smile grew and I nodded quickly. "Your secret's safe with me."

The rest of the train ride consisted of her asking me questions about New York, wanting to learn more about the city for when she and Niall eventually moved out west in our direction. Conversation with her was easy and I could tell she had the same kind of dry humor Harry had on occasions. If she weren't already engaged, I could've swept her off her feet instead of interfering in her brother's marriage. Always bad timing on my end.

We met up with her bridesmaids once we got into town and immediately headed to the bridal store, the five of them getting their dresses properly hemmed and pinned for the wedding in a few days. I sat and watched the whole thing in a quiet state of awe and wonder. I'd never really thought about marriage before, other than thinking I probably wouldn't ever reach that stage in my life, but watching the way Gemma's face lit up with giddiness every time she caught a glimpse of herself decked out in her gown in the mirror, I couldn't help but desire the same for myself some day. To feel that brand of happiness, it must be like no other.

"Mikki, you have a dress for the wedding, right?" Gemma asked, glancing at my reflection in the mirror rather than turning to face me.

Raising a brow at her question, I nodded in response. "I mean, it's nothing special, but I have one. Why?"

"The red one over in the corner there?" She pointed over her shoulder in the general direction she mentioned. "I keep looking at it and thinking it'd be perfect on you."

I turned to look for the dress she was talking about and I could've sworn I stopped breathing the moment I laid my eyes on it. One of the women who was helping us noticed the dress as well, making her way over to the rack and pulling it off. "Would you like to try it on, miss?"

"Oh, no. No, thank you," I said quickly, waving my hand and smiling politely to her. "It's beautiful though. I hope it finds a good home."

"Oh come on, Mikki. You've been sitting there for so long watching us all in our dresses, why not try one on yourself?" Krystal, one of Gemma's bridesmaids, piped up.

"Yeah, try it!" Chloe called out, Norah and Ellie joining in quickly after in a chant of the two words over and over.

"Alriiight, alright. Stop making a scene, you're embarrassing me." Sighing, I stood from my seat and made a face in their direction, but they all ignored it as they cheered.

The sound died out once an attendant got me situated in a dressing room and I quietly stripped down from my clothes, carefully slipping into the dress. The chiffon fabric made it slippery to the touch and the last thing I wanted to do was rip such a gorgeous piece of clothing. I pulled the dress up and slipped my arms through the thin straps before I opened the door, poking my head out.

"I'm sorry to be a bother. Could I get some help with the zipper?" I asked, giving an apologetic look to the attendant.

"No bother at all, miss," she assured me, stepping into the dressing room and assisting me with the final touch. "Would you like to show your friends?"

"I don't think they'd let me live it down if I didn't," I admitted with a low chuckle.

Gathering a bit of the material into my hands so I wouldn't trip, I headed out to where the others were and as soon as they saw me, they began all kinds of teasing catcalls in my direction.

"Mikki, oh my God, you look amazing!" Gemma exclaimed, stepping down from the pedestal she'd been standing on to make her way to me. "Imagine you wearing this, with a matching lip colour, hair all done up nicely. God, you'd be a knockout."

I hadn't taken any time to actually look at myself, so I took this chance to stand in front of the mirror and take it all in. The floor length dress had an empire waist and a v neck that dipped down and showed off a fair bit of cleavage. The back was incredibly low as well judging by the breeze against my skin. It was simple, but the color was bold and I'd be lying to myself if I disagreed with the girls. The dress looked great on me.

"I love it," I spoke softly, my smile growing as I looked over to Gemma, her hands clapped together quickly.

"I knew you would! Let's see how much this bad boy costs." She search for a tag and found on hanging off the back, looking over the price tag and eyes widening. "Oh wow. I wasn't expecting that."

"What?" I asked, glancing back over my shoulder.

"It's... Well. See for yourself," she commented, holding up the tag some so I could get a better look.

I felt my heart sink in my chest and my smile faded upon seeing it. The dress was upwards of a thousand dollars, money that I had but wouldn't spend on one dress when it could go towards so many other things.

I made my way back towards the dressing room to change back into my regular clothes, getting the dress back onto the hanger and handing it back to the attendant, thanking her for letting me try it on.

"That was nice while it lasted." I headed back over to the girls and took my seat again, smiling softly towards Gemma when I noticed the apologetic look on her face. "Hey, it's alright. Maybe the price will drop in the future and I can get my hands on it."

"I should've checked the price before I said anything," she sighed. "Your lunch is on me. To make up for it, yeah?" She was helped down from the step she was on as the seamstress said she'd finished up and Gemma went to go get changed. I wouldn't turn down a free lunch.

The rest of the afternoon was spent at lunch with the girls who talked about everything under the sun. I joined in occasionally, but the thing about being introverted around people I didn't know well was that I never really felt inclined to add anything to a conversation to feel present. I checked my phone, connecting to the free wifi to see if I had any important messages come through while I was out. I noticed a new text from Harry and I smiled just at the sight of his name.

_"How's it going? She talked your ear off yet? xx"_

_"Almost. I'm ready to head back though."_

He must've been waiting to hear back from me because I'd barely locked my phone again before he responded. _"Tea and a film when you're back?"_

_"That sounds perfect. I'll see you in a little while. ❤️"_

With everything that Gemma had told me today, about their mom and Harry's past, I was already starting to feel like I had a place here among their family. I knew that even if Harry never left Jasmine, if nothing more ever came out of this trip between us, at least I'd found a friend in Gemma; someone that I could confide in the same way she'd done with me who knew Harry and could give me advice when I needed it.

"You ready to go?" Gemma's voice pulled me away from my phone and I nodded, meeting her gaze and noticing the soft smirk on her face. "You're smiling at your phone, so I'm guessing H is wanting you back already."

"He mentioned a movie and tea," I said, not really acknowledging the full extent of her comment.

"Then let's get you back so lover boy can stop whining," she chuckled, but I only blushed and kept quiet. She'd begun to gather her things along with the rest of them, having already paid, and I stood with my purse, tucking my phone away again. We all hugged and said our goodbyes before parting ways and we made our way to the train station, heading back up to Holmes Chapel.

Harry was the one to meet us at the train station, grin spread wide across his face when he saw us heading out of the station. He took us to the car, hand on the small of my back, and Gemma kept sending a smirk my direction which I tried to ignore. She didn't say anything on the drive back to the house, but she slipped in through the door before we did, heading towards the stairs.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” she called over her shoulder and even though I couldn’t see her face, I could tell by the tone in her voice that she was insinuating something.

I sent a quick glare in her direction, but it went away as I heard Harry chuckle, looking over towards me with that warm smile I’d fallen in love with. “Well, let’s get the kettle on and then we’ll pick out a film.”

“What kind of movie were you thinking?” I asked, following him towards the kitchen. He filled up the metallic kettle and set it onto the stove to boil before turning to face me. I leaned against the counter behind me and watched as he did the same, biting his lip and furrowing his brow as if in deep thought. I couldn’t deny that I found it incredibly adorable how focused he seemed to be, even if it was a simple question.

“Have you ever seen Love Actually? It’s something we’d always watch around Christmas time, but it’s one of my favourites,” he explained.

I smiled slowly at the suggestion. It wasn’t every day that you’d find a guy recommending a romantic comedy. I had seen it before a couple years ago -- Dory insisted we watch it together so she could swoon over Andrew Lincoln -- but I shook my head. I was lying, of course, but I wanted to see his reaction and he certainly didn’t disappoint as his eyes widened and jaw slackened, mouth hung open.

“You’ve _never_ seen it?” he asked incredulously.

“Nope,” I said, biting back a smile to keep up the charade.

“Well then it’s settled. We have to watch it,” he insisted, grabbing out two tea cups and some tea bags. That’s when I noticed -- no ring, just like Gemma had said. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

He began to tell me a synopsis of the film and based on how enthusiastic he was, I was glad I’d answered how I did. He seemed so excited to share something that meant a lot to him with me and all throughout the movie, I would catch him sneaking glances to take in my reactions. It gave it a whole new meaning for me the second time through and I felt myself grow emotional towards some of the endings in the film, more so than I did the first time I’d watch, but he slipped his arm around me and held me close through it all. He was warm and I wanted nothing more than to stay this way for as long as I could, to revel in the feeling of being with him in this way.

We watched another movie on TV once this one was over. I’d almost forgotten everything that Gemma had told me earlier in the day. The Harry beside me seemed so much different from the one she talked about. Maybe there was some credence to what she’d said about him thinking of leaving Jasmine. About halfway through I noticed his breathing had evened out and become much deeper than it was before. I glanced up to find his eyes closed, chin tucked down towards his chest and curls hanging loose around his face, the sight bringing a smile to my own. I carefully shifted to tuck myself into his side more before I closed my own eyes, head resting on his shoulder and drifting off, wrapped up in his embrace.


	10. Thinking Out Loud

The days leading up to Friday were a blur of busyness and schedules.

Gemma and Niall headed back down to London on Wednesday to get their marriage certificate through the courthouse and make all the final preparations needed and we joined them the following day for the wedding rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Harry was Niall's best man, but since I wasn't in the wedding party, I got to watch from the audience and give feedback on how everything was presented. It was nice to have some sort of role in it all so I didn't feel like I was simply in everyone's way.

I'd caught Gemma and Harry whispering off in the corner of the room at one point after the rehearsal dinner, but when I asked what they were talking about, neither one were willing to tell me. I was curious, but I figured that I'd find out soon enough, if it had anything to do with me.

I met a lot of Harry and Niall's friends, ones from Ireland and some they'd met at various camps they attended throughout their childhood years. The three that Harry seemed to hover around most were Niall's other groomsmen, Liam, Louis, and Zayn. Liam met Niall at a music workshop one summer where they were paired together for a talent contest, Louis and Niall were rooting for opposing teams at a football match a couple years ago but somehow came out of it closer than ever, and Zayn knew Niall through Harry who he met at an arts camp when they were really young.

They'd all come along with their respective girlfriends and since the boys spent loads of time with one another, I spent my time getting to know Sophia, Eleanor, and Perrie, giving Harry a chance to catch up with his friends. I found it hard to concentrate though, his laugh filtering through the air often and capturing my attention. The girls caught me smiling each time as well, poking light fun, before getting back to the topics at hand.

I learned that both Eleanor and Sophia loved fashion, but that only Sophia studied in it while Eleanor got her degree in sociology. Perrie was working on becoming a vet and showed me pictures of the animals she and Zayn had back home. I told them about my writing and that I was a waitress, but left it at that since nothing I'd done could match up to the level of achievements they had. Learning about all the things these women around me had accomplished already at such a young age made me feel insecure, but I gave out credit where it was due and congratulated them all. They were all bright and funny and for some reason they were interested in me, which I still wasn't quite used to.

The dinner was incredible, but I was already too full to eat anything more by the time desserts were coming around. I excused myself, ready to head upstairs to the hotel room we were checked in to earlier, but I heard someone calling my name once I was nearing the elevators, which stopped me in my tracks.

"Mikki, wait up!" Harry called, his long strides carried him towards me quickly. He slowed down from his jog once he'd reached my side, panting quietly once he'd settled.

"Not staying for dessert?" I asked, though that uncontrollable smile whenever I was around him gave away that I was glad he didn't.

"No, I'm exhausted," he chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. "Besides, I've got the key, so."

I made a face, my nose scrunched, and laughed. I had forgotten that detail. "Right. I would've looked pretty foolish sitting outside the room waiting for you to get there."

"Could've started singing that one song from Snow White." He grinned, breaking out into dramatic ballad. "Sooome day my prince will come, some daaay we'll meet again."

The few people in the lobby started looking our way and my hand immediately shot up over his mouth, my belly aching with the laughter I tried holding in. "Shh, you're causing a scene."

"Am not." His words were muffled behind my hand, but his laughter was full and clear and it made that fluttering feeling in my chest return. I lowered my hand so I'd be able to hear it fully and was greeted by that beautiful smile.

The elevator ding reminded me what we'd been waiting for and we made our way inside, Harry hitting the button for the appropriate floor before relaxing against the wall. I caught him glancing over towards me with a soft smirk on his lips and I raised a brow, a similar one turning the edges of my lips upward. "What?"

"You never told me you were a writer," he commented quietly.

I paused to think back on it, and realized I'd never actually told him much about myself other than where I worked and that little bit about my dad at the diner. What if I still felt like a complete stranger to him?

Shrugging, I tucked the loose strands of my hair back behind my ear as I tried to think of a nonchalant way of replying. "It never came up."

"El was telling the boys about your story right before I left, the one you're writing. They all said they'd like to read it whenever you're through with it." Hearing that brought a smile to my face and I glanced down towards my feet, trying to hide the faint redness of my cheeks. "I would too, of course. I'll bet you're an amazing writer."

"Based off what, exactly?" I asked with a soft laugh. "You've never read anything I've written."

"Because everything you do is amazing," he said simply. "And I love the way your mind works. Easy pieces to fit together to make that assumption."

I didn't know what to say, but the elevator doors opening on the proper floor gave me an escape, so I slipped through them and headed down the hall, keeping my head down. Why was it so hard for me to accept compliments from him?

I stopped by the door and waited for him to catch up. I heard his footsteps and looked up in time to see him slip the key into the lock, pushing open the door and holding it for me. "After you."

"Thank you," I muttered, slipping in beneath his arm and turning on the light. We'd barely had time to linger in the room when we dropped our things off, but it was a big size with two queen sized beds and a large bathroom that had hi-tech gadgets and glass shower doors. "They really went all out when picking the hotel for their wedding, huh?"

"You only get married once," Harry said with a chuckle, pausing. "Ideally, anyway."

I didn't want to read too much into the comment, but it was hard not to. Every day during this trip, Harry had gone without his ring on, and we'd been closer than ever before. After what Gemma said, all I could think about was what feelings Harry could possibly have for me, but I was also quick to squash the thoughts as well, knowing full well he'd never leave something that was relatively stable for the mess of a life I had.

"We should probably get some sleep. Busy day tomorrow."

"Yeah," I agreed with a nod. "I'm going to get a quick shower first though so my hair can dry overnight. Do you need to use the bathroom first?"

"All yours." He smiled, heading over to his bag and sifting through it and pulling out a pair of dark sweat pants.

I pulled out the things I'd need and made my way to the bathroom, glad that the sink and mirror was outside the doors so at the very least he could get ready for bed while I was inside. By the time I got out of the shower and finished pinning my hair up into some overnight rollers, the room was dark save for one lamp and Harry was fast asleep, judging by the light snore coming from his bed.

I curled up beneath the blankets and quietly listened to him until I lost track of time. I didn't even realize I'd fallen asleep until I heard a few knocks on the door next morning.

I groaned when I realized nobody else was getting up to answer the door after the second round of knocks and I sat up, carefully getting out of bed and making my way to the door. I glanced through the peep hole to see Eleanor at my door.

I slowly opened it, rubbing my eyes and sending her a sleepy smile. "Morning," I greeted, voice groggy with sleep.

"Good morning," she greeted, already quite chipper from the sounds of it. I was certain I looked crazy with the rollers in my hair and my dolphin patterned pajama pants, but she didn't even seem to be phased by it. "I was wondering if you wanted to come and get ready with the rest of us? It's okay if you don't, but I figured it couldn't hurt to ask."

"Oh." It took my tired brain a few moments to process what she'd said, but my eyes went a bit wide when it registered. "Oh. Yeah, I'd love to. Just... Give me a few minutes to grab my stuff?"

"Do you need any help?" She asked, a giggle falling from her as she watched me shuffled around the room like a chicken with my head cut off.

My arms were full with my makeup bag, phone, shoes, and hair supplies I'd need and I ran over a mental checklist before I answered. "I think I've got everything... Oh, my dress!"

"That would be important," Eleanor said, stepping into the room and over towards the closet. "In here?"

"Yeah, would you mind? I'm sorry," I apologized and she shook her head, pulling the hanger off the shelf.

"I don't mind at all. I'm excited to see what you're wearing," she admitted with a grin and I could only smile sheepishly back.

She would probably be disappointed when she saw that it wasn't anything spectacular. I had a go-to dress for any events I was invited to which were few and far between, but it worked for most and I couldn't complain. It was a relatively modest blue dress that fell to mid thigh and cinched at the waist. Formal enough for a wedding, but nothing over the top. This was Gemma's day and I didn't want anything to steal her spotlight.

We headed down the hall to the executive suite that Gemma and the other girls were getting ready in and I was greeted by a chorus of blow dryers and excited chatter. There were three separate stations set up about the main common area for hair, makeup, and a table full of different perfumes that everyone could try, but it seemed like everyone was saving the dresses for last, so I had Eleanor set mine off to the side with everyone else's as I searched for Gemma.

I found her seated in front of a mirror, a woman with silver hair working on Gemma's, curling it so it fell in ringlets. I could tell by the look on her face that she was nervous, so I moved around front so I could talk to her without distracting her hairstylist too much.

"Hey," I greeted. "Thought I'd come see how you're doing."

"I'm alright, though I'll admit seeing you with those curlers did make me feel a bit better," she chuckled, smiling at me.

"Glad I could be of some help," I said almost sarcastically with a roll of my eyes, but I smiled so she knew I was anything but annoyed. "You excited?"

"Yeah. Mostly ready to get this over with before I throw up on someone," she admitted.

I scrunched up my face and held up my hands. "Hey, as long as it's not me."

"Louise, this is Mikayla, the girl I was telling you about," Gemma said, the silver-haired woman looking up and smiling at me with her painted red lips. "Mikayla, this is Lou. She owns the salon I work at."

"Hello, love," she greeted and I smiled in return. "I'd shake your hand, but I'm tied up."

"No, it's okay. That's way more important," I said with a nod. "Not sure why I've been talked about, but I hope it wasn't anything bad."

"Oh no, she's just telling me ol' uncle knobhead's brought a friend from home, that's all," she assured me, though the look on Gemma's face said there was more she wasn't telling me.

"Uncle knobhead?" I asked, beginning to wonder what the context was behind the nickname.

"He's my daughter's godfather, so I call him that. Out of love, of course," Lou explained as she set aside the curling iron and I nodded, laughing. She grabbed some bobby pins and began to pin up Gemma's hair in the back and though I wanted to see the final product, I knew I had to get myself ready too.

"I'll let you two get back to what you're doing. It was nice meeting you, Lou."

"You too, darlin', if you need any help lemme know," she offered. I smiled and nodded in acknowledgement, waving to Gemma before heading over to the makeup station to join Perrie and Krystal.

An hour or so passed and I was finally satisfied with my makeup, so I began to let my hair out from the curlers, feeling the loose waves brush against my skin as they fell. I saw Gemma walking up behind me in the mirror’s reflection and smiled at her finished look. Her makeup was subtle with a light golden shimmer on her eyelids and her hair was up in a messy chignon, loose wisps of wavy hair falling from the low bun and fringe held out of her face with two silver flower barrettes.

“You look amazing, Gem,” I complimented, turning to face towards her once I’d gotten the last of the curlers out of my hair so I could better admire her romantic appearance.

“Why thank you,” she chuckled, giving a quick curtsey before standing straight up again. “Why haven’t you gotten your dress on yet? I want to see you in it!”

“Because unlike some natural beauties in the room, I needed to make myself look decent,” I laughed. Gemma sent a quick and playful glare towards me but didn’t address my comment, heading quickly into the other room instead where Eleanor had taken my dress.

She returned with the dress bag in hand, face lit up with a mischievous grin, one that was all too familiar at this point. I immediately became suspicious. “Why are you so anxious for me to get dressed?”

“I’m going to be caught sooner or later anyway,” she sighed more to herself, shrugging and unzipping the bag. I had expected to see the blue of the dress I’d brought along with me, but in its place was a bright red -- a red that I remember very well.

“Gemma, you didn’t…”

I couldn’t even finish speaking as she slid the red dress from the bridal store out of the bag, holding it up in front of me. “You looked so good in it, I couldn’t let it slip away. Don’t be mad.”

I brought my hand up over my mouth, not sure how to react. If it had been anyone else, I probably would have felt like they saw me as a charity case, but this was Gemma and she looked so worried that I wouldn’t like that she bought it that I knew she’d done it out of the goodness of her heart.

“Thank you,” I finally managed to speak, though my voice cracked a bit as I did. The worry melted from Gemma’s features and she smiled, stepping forward to pull me into a hug which I returned with fervor. “You’re the best.”

“Thank Harry. It was his idea to switch out the dresses.”

I laughed, pulling away to quickly wipe the edges of my eyes and thanking whatever higher powers that be that I’d brought mostly waterproof makeup. So that was why they’d been whispering yesterday. “Of course it was. I guess I’ll have to figure something else out for my hair, huh?”

“Lou can help with that!” Gemma exclaimed, grinning and dragging me over towards the chair she’d been sitting in earlier.

I wasn’t going to protest. When I’d agreed to join Harry on this trip, I never thought that I’d meet so many wonderful people who didn’t ask questions about what I did or who I was and base their assumptions around my answers. They wanted to help me because they liked me even though they hardly knew me. That was a hard thing to adjust to. I know I can be prideful. I rarely accept other people’s help because I don’t like accepting hand outs as if I’m some sort of charity case in need of their sympathy.

With this trip though, I was learning that there’s nothing wrong with occasionally accepting things from others. Sometimes, people do nice things out of the goodness of their hearts. I just needed give myself permission to let other people help me, and I knew that I would be the hardest obstacle to overcome.

Lou gave me a similar hairstyle to Gemma’s, a loose, low bun that held my curls back, minus the barrettes. I replaced one item of makeup as a finishing touch -- a bright red lipstick to match the dress, per Gemma and Lou's suggestion -- and then most of us headed downstairs to meet up in the wedding hall.

I wished the girls luck before slipping into the large room full of guests already, my eyes searching for that familiar head of curls bobbing atop the crowd. I noticed him and a rather fidgety Niall standing up towards the altar and I made my way up, smiling sheepishly when I noticed both pairs of eyes landing on me.

"Wow..." Harry murmured, smile growing. "Gem was right. You make that dress look incredible."

"Thank you. For everything," I emphasized, hoping he'd realize what I meant. I looked to Niall who was muttering under his breath and raised a brow, glancing to Harry for an explanation.

"He's running through his vows for the millionth time," he explained and I nodded, looking to Niall once more. His brows were knitted together as he paced, grumbling when he's stumble over a word.

"Niall?" I reached out and placed my hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his trance-like state. "You'll do fine."

"What if I don't though? I keep stumbling over my words... I wanted to surprise her, but not if I keep fuckin' up."

"I have faith in you, Niall. You'll do great, okay?"

I was told by an usher that the wedding would be starting soon and to find my seat, so I gave each a peck on the cheek before sitting down beside Anne in the front row.

The ceremony began and from start to finish, it was beautiful. A little girl with blonde hair tossed the flower petals all about the aisle and right beside her was a boy of maybe two holding onto her dress and walking along beside her. I recalled the picture Lou had shown me of her daughter and placed the girl as Lux, but I didn’t find out until later that the ring bearer was Niall’s nephew, Theo.

Watching the way the two looked at each other throughout the wedding, especially when Niall's eyes first landed on Gemma at the end of the aisle, it made my heart soar. Niall ended up sticking to the traditional vows and I was a bit disappointed, but before we made our way into the reception room afterwards, I pulled him aside.

"Why didn't you say the vows you wrote?" I asked in a hushed voice, not wanting to draw too much attention.

"I dunno. I got too nervous," he admitted. "I've never been very good at words or sounding eloquent or anything," he lamented with a sigh.

"Well... I find that the best sentimental pieces come straight from the heart," I started with a soft smile. "She loves you and you love her. Don't think too hard about if the words flow well or if you stutter or anything like that. Just... Say what you feel in here." I placed my hand over his heart, patting the spot gently. "And she'll love it. I'm sure of it."

Niall didn't say anything for a moment, only nodded as he took in a deep, steadying breath. "Okay. Yeah, alright. I can do that."

"Good. Now get in there and knock them dead."

We headed into the reception hall and everyone was already finding their tables, situating themselves and talking amongst each other. I was sat up by Harry at the table with the bride and groom's family and I took my seat just in time for the champagne to be poured.

"Can I have everyone's attention, please?" Niall called out, his loud voice penetrating the chatter all about the dining hall which quickly became silent. His face was bright with a smile as he took in the sight of the room full of guests in front of him before his eyes landed on me on the other side of the table. I smiled, giving him a quick thumbs up, and he gave a slight nod before taking in a deep breath and beginning his speech.

"I'd like to thank everyone for coming out today, on behalf of myself and the missus," he began, glancing over to Gemma and holding out his hand for her. She gladly took it and he gave it a squeeze, addressing the crowd once more. "I've got a few words I'd like to say before we get around to the embarrassing speeches from family and whatnot," he joked and everyone joined him in a round of laughter.

This is when he turned to Gemma and brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles and lingering for a moment as he stared down towards her with a look I could only describe as pure adoration.

"Gemma, I don't think I could ever explain how happy a man you've made me. For the past couple of years, we've been inseparable, you and I. We went to go see The Commitments for our first date together, remember that? I remember I was so bloody nervous for it that I'd gone and changed about four times before I settled on what to wear, but it didn't really matter cos we were gonna be sitting in the dark anyway," he laughed, shaking his head. "I just knew I wanted to be the best I could be to impress you. I suppose it worked cos you're here, yeah? You've always been someone I've admired, but you never treated me like I was below you at any point, even though I'm not nearly as clever or talented as you are in certain areas, though you rightly could. You've been everything to me these past couple years: my rock, my confidant, my partner in crime, one of the best friends I could ever ask for. Today, on top of all of those things, you've officially become my wife. You've helped me be a better version of me than I ever knew could've existed. I wanna thank you for giving me a chance to show you that I could love you if you'd let me. I love you, I have loved you, and I'll continue to love you until we're old and grey. Then you're on your own," he teased with a chuckle, receiving a light slap on the arm by a teary-eyed Gemma.

I couldn't blame her for crying though. I was on the edge of doing the same and I couldn't imagine there being a dry eye in the house at this point. Niall's words were heartfelt and he did better than I could've ever hoped considering how frazzled he seemed just a few hours ago. I felt Harry's hand over mine and I glanced over towards him noticing he was sniffling a bit himself, but he was smiling fondly up towards the two at the head of the table.

Raising his glass of champagne into the air with his free hand, Harry stood from his seat. Niall's eyes never left Gemma's face as Harry addressed the whole room. "I'd like to propose a toast to my sister and brand new brother-in-law. May you both have years of infinite happiness ahead of you. Can't think of any two people who deserve it more."

I gave his hand a light squeeze before raising my glass. "To Niall and Gemma!"

"To Niall and Gemma!" The guests all echoed. The sound of clinking glass could be heard around the room as everyone went around the table, tapping their glasses together with quick mumbles of 'cheers' beneath their breath before taking a sip and our table was no exception.

The band began playing once again and Harry took his seat beside me, setting his champagne flute down and removing his tuxedo jacket, letting it hang off the back of his chair. He looked over and noticed the way I was smiling at him the whole time with my chin in my hands and he gave me a look, laughing. "What?"

"You were crying," I crooned, smile growing wider.

"So were you!" He exclaimed with more laughter, rolling up his sleeves so they'd sit at his elbows.

"I know, but that's different," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "I just wouldn't expect you to be the sappy type, that's all."

"Was suggesting we watch Love Actually not a dead giveaway?" He smirked, taking a sip of his drink before he noticed that some of the guests were filing back out onto the dance floor. "Do you wanna dance?"

"What?" I was caught off guard by his question, but I realized the direction he was looking and connected the dots, quickly shaking my head. "Oh, no. I'll end up stepping on your toes."

"You dance for a living," he commented under his breath so only I could here and I furrowed my brow at the grin on his face. "C'mon. Just two songs, then you can come sit back down the rest of the night."

Sighing, I glanced up and noticed the hotel staff who were hired for the reception were bringing the plates of food around to the tables and looked over towards him once more. "First we eat, then we dance, okay?"

"Ugh, fiiine," he groaned a bit, his bottom lip pouting out. I rolled my eyes and smiled at his reaction, unraveling the silverware from the napkin and placing the cloth over my lap.

The food was delicious and I took my time eating it, despite Harry wolfing down his own and anxiously tapping his foot against the ground. At some point I think he realized that I was purposefully messing with him because he sighed and stood, heading out to the dance floor to meet up with Lux who was having a ball by herself. The two danced for a few songs while I ate and I had to admire the way Harry was with her, face bright with a grin and curls bopping along to the fast-paced music the band played. Eventually his dance partner was taken away by her mom to go eat and he found his way back to the table, holding out his hand towards me.

“Can we dance now? Don’t leave me hanging,” he asked, giving me a doe-eyed pout.

I laughed and wiped the corners of my mouth carefully, setting the napkin aside. As I did that, I also slipped my feet out of the silver strappy heels that I’d borrowed from Sophia, the size putting pressure on my feet and making it uncomfortable to wear.

“Well, I guess since you’ve been _so_ patient…” I teased, taking his hand and standing. “Don’t step on my feet though, okay? I’m not wearing my heels.”

“Your toes are safe with me, I promise.” He smiled.

And with that, he led me out to the dance floor, quickly tugging on my hand like an excited child. There were others surrounding us, but as he placed his hand on the small of my back to pull me closer and the other gripped onto mine, I hardly noticed any of them.

“Tell me when you’re done and you can go sit back down,” he whispered. I nodded slowly, biting my lip out of nervousness. I’d never properly danced before, the only experience I had being at the club and that was far from the intimate kind of dancing required now. “Follow my lead, okay? You’ll be fine.”

It started out simple, the two of us swaying along to the melody of the song that the band played, though it was halfway through by the time we’d gotten onto the dance floor. I could feel the tension slowly easing out of my shoulders with each passing step and I relaxed into the motions. The speed of the next couple of songs was quicker and left room for some goofy dance moves from Harry and cutting in from Niall and Gemma to join us once in awhile to spin around the dance floor in good fun. I can’t remember a time when I’d felt as light as I did then.

A couple of songs later and the room applauded the band as someone stepped up onto the stage, acoustic guitar in hand.

“Hello everyone,” the redhead greeted. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Ed. Niall and I’ve been friends for a few years now and we’ve taken to jamming out whenever we’ve got the chance. When he told me he was getting married a few months ago, he asked me if I could play a song at his wedding, and I happily obliged. This is my gift to the happy couple.”

“Get in, Ed!” Harry cheered, grin spread across his face and I looked up towards him, hitting his arm gently.

“Stop, you’re gonna ruin the moment,” I said, but I let out a small laugh at the vulgar gesture Ed sent in his direction.

Slipping the guitar over his shoulders, he began to pluck the strings and turned to the band, instructing the drummer to follow his lead and giving the others permission to chime in if they wanted along the way. He turned back to the mic and began the song.

“ _When your legs don't work like they used to before and I can't sweep you off of your feet, will your mouth still remember the taste of my love? Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?_ ”

“Shall we dance?” Harry asked, hand extended out towards me. I nodded, slipping my own into his and he pulled me in close again, large hand splayed out against the small of my back and we began dancing as the light drum beat kicked in.

“ _And, darling, I will be loving you 'til we're 70. And, baby, my heart could still fall as hard at 23. And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe just the touch of a hand. Well, me - I fall in love with you every single day and I just wanna tell you I am._ ”

“You look beautiful tonight,” Harry spoke softly into my ear, his head resting against mine. “Not that you don’t every night, but… Red is really your colour.”

“I’ll make a mental note. ‘Harry likes me in red’,” I chuckled softly. I was glad he couldn’t see the smile his words brought to my face though. I hated that he had that effect on me. “Should I wear it more often then?”

“Yes, you absolutely should,” he returned quickly. “Only if you want to though.”

“I like seeing you happy, so if it makes you happy, I’ll wear red more,” I reasoned with a shrug.

“Seeing you always makes me happy,” he admitted.

I felt the way he pulled me in just that bit more when he spoke and I easily moved into him, feeling our bodies touch. I took in a deep breath and carefully adjusted my position so my head was resting onto his shoulder, eyes closed to take in this moment. I knew it would only last for so long and I wanted to cherish every second of it.

“Since I’ve found out there’s things I don’t know about you already the past few days… What other secret talents do you have, hmm?” Harry’s voice rumbled in his chest and even though the question itself caught me off guard, I was relaxed by the sound.

“Depends on what you consider a talent, I guess,” I started, trying to think of anything that someone might consider impressive in some way. “I can roll my tongue, but everyone can do that. Um… I speak French, I got a 3.9 GP--”

“You speak French? Well, I guess with a last name like Beaumont, you’d have to,” he interrupted and I glanced up towards him, his green eyes focusing in on me and I smiled, nodding. He puffed out his chest a bit, grin coming to his face. “I don’t wanna brag, but I speak a little myself.”

“Oh really? Do share,” I laughed quietly.

“Okay, but don’t swoon too hard.” Chuckling, he cleared his throat before putting on a faux French accent. “Je suis allé au cinéma avec mes copains et ma famille.”

“Got that one straight out of a textbook, didn’t you?” I smirked, trying to hold back my laughter.

“What gave you that idea? I’m an intelligent individual, Mikayla, and I’m hurt by your assumptions.” Harry pouted and I reached up to turn the edge of his lip upward with one finger.

“No frowning. You’ll get wrinkles.”

“And now you insult my looks! Does it ever end with you?” he continued to joke and I rolled my eyes, laughing along with him when I heard a chuckle fall past his pink lips. “You still have yet to show off your skills, Miss Beaumont. I’m waiting.”

I stayed quiet for many moments as I stared up at him, taking in his face and the way the light seemed to accentuate all of the right places, especially the dimple in his cheek. I’d almost forgotten that we were standing in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by at least 20 other people because all I could see was him and all I could feel in that moment was an overwhelming warm sensation that took over my whole being, the feeling that I’d had so often when around him.

Our swaying to the music had stopped and here we were, two fools standing in the middle of the dance floor, holding onto each other and looking at each other like we were the only ones in the room as Ed poured his heart out on stage a few yards away. Without thinking, I let the first words that filtered into my mind at his request slip past my lips.

“Je pense que je t’aime.” The words that left me were soft, barely audible, but I could see in the way that Harry stared down at me that he’d caught them.

Swallowing hard and flicking his tongue out to run along his lips, he took in my face as if he were searching for something. His silence scared me, but finally he responded, his voice almost as low as mine had been. “What does that mean?”

With the way he looked at me, I was almost certain he knew the answer to his own question. I wanted so badly to answer him, to tell him the truth right then and there, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to do it when I knew it was wrong to be feeling the way I did.

Shaking my head, I pulled out of his arms, gathering up the material of my skirt in my hands before heading off towards our table again. I was doing what I did best and I was going to push him away. It was what needed to be done. There was no way I could tell him that I loved him and expect anything in return when he was married. The sooner I got out of there, the sooner I was out of his life, the easier it would be for everyone involved to forget this ever happened.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” I muttered under my breath, quickly grabbing my shoes and the clutch I’d brought along with me from the table and rushing from the reception room.

“Mikayla? Mikayla, wait up!”

I could hear Harry calling my name, but I didn’t stop. The padding of my feet against the cool tile flooring was overshadowed by the buzz of commotion from the room I’d just vacated and the beating of my heart against my eardrums. I was doing my best to get out of there as quickly as I could so I could avoid any backlash my comment may have caused, but the elevator was taking its sweet time getting to the lobby.

I stepped inside and hit the button for our floor when I heard his voice again, looking up to see him rushing for the elevator. I silently prayed that the doors would close before he reached them, but he slipped in just in time, breathing heavily and leaning back against the now closed doors.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have said anything,” I quickly apologized, stumbling over my words and around the lump forming in my throat. “I don’t know what I was thinking because you’re married and I--”

That was the last thing I was able to get out before Harry held my face, pulled me in, and crashed his lips against mine.


	11. Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: smut ahead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who asked if there was going to be smut... enjoy~

I'm not sure why I didn't kiss him back right away. I think it was mostly out of shock. Part of me was wondering if this was an incredibly realistic dream, that I'd wake up in my bed back home to discover the past few days had all been an elaborate fantasy of my subconscious, but I knew that wasn't the case when I noticed the loss of contact almost immediately. He pulled away, half-lidded eyes looking down at me and searching for any kind of reaction aside from my wide-eyed stare, barely any space between us. I could still feel his warm breath across my skin and it pulled me closer, wanting to feel his touch again.

"I..." I began, but I didn't know what I was even attempting to say. My head was so full of thoughts that I couldn't make heads or tails of, so what could I use to form a proper thought? Rather than saying anything, I reached my hands out and curled my fingers around his lapels, stood on the tips of my toes, and brought our lips back together in another kiss, this one deeper than the first.

This time, I knew it was real. The way his lips worked against mine and the soft mewl that escaped him, I could hardly contain myself. I wanted to be closer, I wanted to feel his body pressed against mine again like it had been while we were dancing, but the elevator ding rang out when we reached our floor and forced us apart once more.

We stood there for a few moments, just staring at each other and taking in deep, unsure breaths. I knew this was wrong. By the looks of it, he did too. But we'd already crossed a line and now we had a crucial decision to make on where this would go.

When I first met Harry, I didn't want it to end up here. I didn't want to be the other woman in this crazy, messed up story. But this whole trip, everything we'd done, all the people I had met that played important roles in his life, and all that we'd shared with one another, it felt like it was meant to be this way -- like we were meant to end up here. Here we were, two broken souls that had found one another in such an unexpected way, wanting so badly to love and be loved that nothing else seemed to matter.

"We should..." My voice trailed off, unable to finish my thought aloud. The elevator doors being wide open behind him reminded me of our surroundings and I didn't want to hold it up or end up being taken to other floors.

He nodded a bit, quickly, and muttered a soft "Yeah," before stepping backwards and out of the elevator, grabbing onto my hand and leading me down the hall towards our room. It was hard to keep up with his long strides, but soon enough we were tucked away in our room with all of the privacy we needed. For what, I wasn't sure yet.

His hands made their way to my hips once the door had closed and he pulled my body flush against his, giving them a squeeze as his lips pressed into mine again. I eagerly returned it and unconsciously I found myself pushing his jacket off his shoulders in a half-hearted effort at undressing him. Before I could stop myself, his hands moved from my waist and he slipped the article off the rest of the way, letting it fall to the floor.

Things picked up rapidly once that first piece was gone. Our kiss deepened even more and I took his bottom lip between my teeth and tugged gently, drawing a low groan from him, all while my fingers swiftly and expertly undid the buttons of his shirt. At the same time I could feel his own gripping onto the zipper that held my dress together and tugging it down, the tension on the fabric around my torso slacking. He pulled the straps off my shoulders and the dress pooled around my feet on the floor, leaving me standing in only my panties as the dress hadn't allowed for me to wear a bra with the low cut in the back. The chilled air of the room hit my exposed skin and goosebumps prickled across it, but his roaming hands pulling me closer helped to push the cold away.

I managed to remove his shirt and I tossed it off in a random direction. Though I immediately went to focus on his belt, my movements were halted by him lifting me off the ground, hands gripping tightly at my thigh just beneath my rear end and the small of my back to hold me up against his chest. Instinctively, my legs wrapped around his waist and my hands tangled into his hair, our lip lock only continuing as he carried me towards the bed.

I kept expecting the cool metal of his wedding band to press into my skin at any moment as his hand roamed up my leg, but the feeling never came. It was in this moment that I was able to forget about the woman with his last name back home. I was able to forget about the fact that we couldn't be anything anywhere but within these four walls. All that mattered to me was the hunger behind his kiss and the way his fingers pulled at the clothing on my body in a desperate need to be as close as possible with no more interruptions. We'd been kept apart for far too long, and I was ready to dive head first into this with him -- whatever it was -- if it meant he could be mine, even if only for tonight.

Before I knew it, my back was against the mattress and Harry hovered over top of me, his hair falling in curtains around his face. He stared down at me for a few moments, swallowing hard and taking in a few deep breaths. He was silent as his eyes slowly took in my being and that alone was enough to raise a blush to my cheeks. Every movement had ceased and an anxious feeling built up inside me, wondering if he was starting to have second thoughts about all of this or if he was only taking his time to admire the view.

"Are you okay?" I asked, barely raising my voice so I wouldn't startle him out of his train of thought.

"Yeah," he spoke, his languid voice reaching my ears and gaze brought up from staring at my body to looking into my eyes. "It's just been awhile since I've done this and... I never thought I'd be here, with you. I'm trying to sort out where to start and making sure this isn't a dream."

I couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his comment. "You and me both," I spoke, smile coming to my face. "But I'm here. This is real... I want this. I want you."

I ran my hands down his shoulders and along his chest, my eyes following along. I was taking in the tattoos all across his smooth skin, all the details of the art, before tracing carefully across the outline of the butterfly on his stomach.

How fitting.

My hands fell lower on his body, over the abs I had no idea he had beneath the clothing he sported. I wondered if he dressed modestly because he felt like he had no one to impress or if it was because it was what he felt most comfortable in. Regardless of the reason, it did well to hide the toned physique beneath them and I was certainly surprised by it.

His ab muscles tensed beneath my touch and I glanced up to see him watching my every move. I finally undid the fastenings of his belt that held it together and leaned up to kiss along his defined jawline, nipping at the skin. I was about to do away with the button and zipper on his pants before he grabbed my hand, stopping me.

"Wait." He quickly sat up, worrying me again, and I propped myself up on my elbows, brow furrowed.

"What's wrong now?" I asked, biting my lip. It felt like every time I thought things would get under way, something else would come to mind to keep us from each other again.

I wondered briefly if that was meant to be a sign from some higher power that we shouldn't continue doing this. I knew that we shouldn't, but we were here and we were in love, and this is what people in love were supposed to do, right? Even if the situation wasn't ideal, this was what we both wanted. We could figure out the rest later.

"I don't have a condom," he spoke, a small huff of a sigh falling from him. "Maybe I can run downstairs and ask if one of the boys has any I ca--"

"Stop," I interrupted, sitting up properly and cupping his face. "It's okay. We don't need one."

"But what if you ge--"

"You really think I do what I do without taking extra precautions?" I asked, a laugh slipping from me. “I’m on birth control and I’ve got morning after pills in my bag if we need it.”

Harry nodded slowly before settling back over me, leaning in to kiss me again with his hand running up along my thigh, a heat trailing along behind his touch. I eased into his touch and finally undid the button and zipper before pushing the fabric off his hips, which he kicked off the rest of the way and let them fall off the edge of the bed along with his dress shoes and socks.

Part of me wished I had something more to offer him other than those words, but I knew it would be enough for now. I kept the condoms I used at the club in a drawer in my private room back in New York. I never had to carry them with me because I never used them outside of the club. Had I thought anything like this would've happened, I would have grabbed a few and brought them along, but never in a million years could I have imagined me lying mostly naked in front of him ever being anything but a distant dream. Harry was the first person that I’d been intimate with aside from the men who paid for sex and even that was a different form of intimate than where we were now.

I was no stranger to sex. If there was one thing I knew I was good at, it was sex. What made my hands shake as I moved along the elastic waistband of his dark boxer briefs was the idea of making love, something intimate and romantic with someone that I cared about for the first time. I didn't know what to expect let alone if I'd be able to measure up to his expectations, but I hoped I wouldn't disappoint him.

I wasn't a virgin by any stretch of the imagination, but this felt like the first time all over again. If only it had been. I would've preferred this over being with a man twice my age who was paying to sleep with me, even if both scenarios still had their taboos about them.

Harry must've noticed the way I shook with nerves because the next thing I knew, his slender fingers were wrapped around my wrist and he tipped my chin up with his other hand so I could look at him, turning my earlier question back on me. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah," I stuttered, biting my lower lip for a moment. Guess it was my turn to be the pause in our actions. "I... I'm nervous."

"Why are you nervous?" His voice was low as was the soft laugh that trickled between his lips after his words. "I should be the nervous one. I haven't done this in years."

"I've never done this before," I said quickly, my eyes squeezing shut so I didn't have to look at his reaction. "I-I mean... I've never... Never slept with someone I cared about before."

The room was silent and for a second I wondered if he'd left, but the warm skin I felt on my wrist said otherwise. I carefully chanced a look only to see him smiling softly down at me.

"We'll take it slow, then," he assured me, his voice barely above a whisper. I nodded slowly and my head instinctively tilted into his touch as he brought his hands up to cup my jaw, fingers loosely wrapping around the back of my neck.

Leaning in, he placed a couple barely-there kisses to the edges of my lips before he leaned in towards the center and kissed me. I don't mean a kiss similar to the make-out session we'd had in the elevator or by the door, but I mean a real, full-blown kiss. The kind where I could feel nearly every pent up emotion he felt for me through it, the ones that took your breath away. His thumb traced along my cheek and I'd never felt more weak in the knees than I did in that moment.

I loved this man. I loved him and finally -- _finally_ \-- he was mine.

His lips trailed from mine and along the edge of my jawline, the light scratch of his growing stubble against my skin sending a shiver down my spine. I tilted my head to the side to offer more skin for him to access and he took advantage, the feeling of his lips sucking against the nape of my neck forcing a soft whimper from me.

He continued to trail lower, focusing on various sensitive points as he went; first my collarbones, then the valley between my breasts, and finally his tongue swirled around one of my nipples that stood half-erect due to the cold and how aroused I was growing. My hips lifted off the bed when he looped his fingers beneath the waistline of my underwear and he easily tugged them off of me, leaving me completely bare beneath him and exposed to his whims.

I wanted more. I wanted him and I could feel myself already growing impatient with the idea of taking it slow even though it'd only been a few moments.

Fingers in his hair, I pulled him back up towards my face so I could kiss him again, my legs wrapping around his waist. He moaned into my mouth as if he were wanting to say something, but I didn't want to hear it at the moment. All I wanted was to be able to please him and for him to do the same for me.

I think I caught him off guard as I turned the two of us over judging by the shocked look on his face. We were positioned now so that I was on top and straddling his hips, and I laughed a bit at his pouted expression and leaned down, kissing him.

"You were taking too long," I mumbled against his lips, grinding my hips down into his and hearing his breath hitch in his throat.

"I want this to be about you, not me," he commented back.

I was about to speak when I felt his strong arms lifting me again, a surprised noise leaving me as he did. He brought me up so that my legs were on either side of his head rather than his waist before letting me down again and I glanced down just in time to see a smirk grace his face before his lips disappeared from my view. They weren't gone for long though as I felt them along my inner thigh, moving up towards my center.

I wanted to protest, wanted to say something to tell him that he didn't have to, but before anything could come out, he ran his tongue along my slick lower lips and suctioned his lips against the skin, humming low in his throat to send vibrations through me. I gasped, surprised at the sensation, and my eyes fluttered shut as he continued.

It had been a long time since anybody had gone down on me, yet here he was, willingly and actively going to town and actually enjoying it.

I let out a few soft moans, my fingers threading through his curls as the other hand held onto the headboard, needing something to keep me up right. His hands gripped tightly onto my hips and pulled me down against his face, lips buried between the folds and tongue flicking along the sensitive bundle of nerves hidden away at the top. It was unbelievable how good it felt and I didn't want it to end, but he was hitting all of the right spots and I could feel that tingling sensation building up in my body already.

"H-Harry..." I sighed, my breathing more shallow the faster he worked his mouth against me. Holding on tighter to his curls, I looked down to watch him, moving my hips along his tongue as he circled it around the skin. He looked up at me and though I couldn't see it, the glint in his eyes let me know he was smirking proudly at the look of satisfaction on my face.

It seemed to spur him on more the more I moaned, so I was more vocal each time he touched the right spots. I leaned back some, the hand I'd been using to grip onto the headboard following along his waistline to find the top of his briefs. It took a few moments of trying to find it without looking, but once I had, I slipped my hand over top of the bulge that was so prominent and allowed my fingers to caress along the length to get an idea of what he looked like.

The further along my hand moved, the more impressed I grew. He wasn't humongous, but he was definitely above average, and I knew that he was probably bigger than any of the guys I'd been with at the club. The anticipation of getting to please him became too much as he groaned into my folds that I decided to return the favor in some way.

My hand dipped beneath the elastic of his briefs and I pushed it down as best I could at this angle, pushing it over his erection and allowing it to spring forth. I wrapped my fingers around the base of his shaft, caressing my thumb across the slit up top to wipe away the pre-cum that had gathered, and began to work my hand up and down slowly, feeling the way he tensed and relaxed at my touch. The loud moans it drew from him made me wonder just how sensitive he would be since he said he hadn't done this in years. I assumed he masturbated like most men do, but judging by the way he bucked his hips up into my touch and whined against my lower lips, it must not have been very often.

"You like that, babe?" I breathed and I received a hum in response just before he turned all his attention to my clit, alternating between his tongue pressing against it and sucking at the nerves. A gasp escaped me and I felt the muscles in my legs that held me up quake, threatening to give out on me. I knew I was nearing what would be my first climax of the night and I softly whimpered out a moan, circling my hips down onto his tongue.

With eyes closed, brow knitted together, and head thrown back, I came against his mouth, my muscles tightening and toes curling as the sensation rocked through my entire body. He slowed his actions down to a stop, taking a few last licks to lap up extra juices before he pulled back. His lips were swollen red and slick with cum and all I could do was stare at him as I caught my breath, unruly hair a mess around his face when I released his locks from my grasp.

I wanted nothing more than to kiss him in that moment, to taste myself on his lips. There was something arousing about the idea that he'd taste like me, a reminder of the events that just took place, so once I'd dismounted his face, I leaned in and pulled him in for a deep kiss, my tongue running out along his bottom lip to ask for silent permission.

His lips parted and he ran his tongue out against mine with a soft hum, the two muscles working against one another as the kiss deepened. With his back now pressed against the headboard, he was able to remove his briefs the rest of the way and I straddled his waist once more, hands rested on his chest and slipping lower the longer we kissed. Fingers wrapped around his length once more, but this time I lightly caressed the tip along my sensitive skin, body reacting with a slight quiver at each touch.

"We can wait," Harry murmured against my lips and I shook my head, biting his lower lip gently and tugging then resting my forehead against his. He could probably feel the way I shook each time the head of his cock passed over my clit, my whole nether region still sensitive to the touch.

"I don't want to," I assured him, the tip of my nose just barely grazing along his.

I aligned him outside of my entrance and, with another deep kiss, lowered myself down onto him. He filled me up and I moaned into the kiss, my arms wrapping loosely around his shoulders and holding him as close as possible. It was everything I could do to keep myself from moving, to allow myself time to adjust to his size. He helped to ease me into it, peppering kisses along my cheeks, my lips, my chin, and hands resting on my hips to keep me still all while caressing his thumb across them. His head dipped lower and he teased my nipples the same way he had been before I took control, first with his tongue and then grazing his teeth carefully along the buds.

I moaned softly as his lips trailed from one breast to the other, every sensation feeling a bit too much, but I held myself together knowing I still had to get him off. This was the part I knew I was good at, but Harry had thrown me off my rhythm by making it about me and what I wanted. Nobody who came into the club was concerned about whether or not I got off because they were there for themselves, so to be treated like I was the priority for once felt amazing.

I began to circle my hips when I felt like I’d taken enough time, grinding down into him, which brought forth a groan low in his throat. It took a lot to hold back my own moans, but hearing the noises coming from him spurred me on more. I wanted to listen to him moan and know that it was because of me, the idea of getting him off and pleasing him as much as I could the main priority in my mind.

I leaned back so that I sat up straight, his lips popping off of my skin, and he looked up to watch me from the angle he laid back against the headboard in. His hands still on my hips, he gripped onto them and used his hold to better help him thrust his hips upward to meet mine, the sound of skin on skin contact echoing through the room mixed with our shallow breathing.

“Fuck…” I whispered, hands pressed down into his chest helping me to lift my hips to glide along his length.

The more speed we gained, the harder it was to keep up with his thrusts, my arms already quivering with the force of another oncoming orgasm. I wasn’t too close, but the tightness in my stomach and the build up of sensitivity in my entire body was a clear sign that I was well on my way. I opened my eyes and looked down to catch him watching me, a barely there smile coming to my face before I bit back another moan, lip caught between my teeth.

“You feel so good, babe,” he commented, voice breathy. “Gonna cum for me again?”

I hadn’t expected that comment to get to me as much as it did, but I whimpered softly and nodded in response, my body leaning into his again. The new angle he penetrated me in was just right and I felt him grazing right along my g-spot, a gasp falling from my lips before I buried my face down into the crook of his neck.

His arms wrapped around my waist and he held me flush against his chest, shifting just a bit so he could leverage himself enough to thrust into me with as much speed as he could muster. Judging by the way he panted into my ear and pressed his lips into my shoulder, I could tell he was close to his climax too, but before he could, my back arched and my muscles began to tense up, my whole body shaking and breath catching in my throat.

“Harry, oh my God… fuck, just like that,” I moaned into his neck, kissing and biting where his neck transitioned into his shoulder. In the back of my mind, I knew that it would leave a mark, but at this point I didn’t care. I wouldn’t deny that this happened and I hoped he wouldn’t either.

A flash of white shot across my vision as I was hit with my second orgasm of the night and I squeezed my eyes shut, nails dragging along his sides as I tried to grab onto anything that I could to try and steady myself to no avail. I grew tight around him and the guttural groan he let out let me know he was just on the edge, but he stopped his thrusts before he could, pulling out of me and bringing his hand down between us.

Before he could reach, I swatted his hand away and shifted so that I was laying beside him rather than on top of him, taking him in my hand and pumping at the same pace we’d just been at. He lifted his hips up into my touch, choking back moans before he turned to kiss me, our lips colliding in a hard and open-mouthed kiss.

He let out a low whine against my lips and I caught a glimpse of his knitted brows as I pulled away to catch my breath, pecking soft kisses along his jawline. “Cum for me,” I whispered into his ear once I’d reached it.

Almost as if I’d given him permission, he bucked sporadically up into my hand and I felt the trickle of warm, white liquid fall across my fingers. I slowed to a stop, knowing just how sensitive someone with a penis could get after ejaculating and not wanting to subject him to that, especially since he hadn’t done this in a long while, it seemed. I smiled to myself as I brought my hand, sticky with his cum, to my lips and licked it clean, watching as he turned his gaze upon me once he’d regained his sense of being.

“That’s so hot,” he murmured with a soft chuckle and I laughed along with him, finishing it off before leaning in to kiss him again, which he gladly returned with his hand cradling the back of my head and other arm wrapped around my torso to hold me close.

We kissed for a few long moments before finally pulling apart, the only sound in the room now that of our deep breaths and the hum of the air conditioning. My eyes were closed as I rested my forehead against his temple, nuzzling my nose against his cheek. I wanted to revel in this moment, in the postcoital bliss that fell over the both of us, but I was soon interrupted by Harry’s voice coming to my ears.

“I’m going to leave her.”

“What?” I asked softly, pulling away to look at him properly. His face was flush and beads of sweat caused his hair to stick to his face, but he still looked as beautiful as ever.

“I’m going to leave Jas,” he repeated, both words and gaze soft as he looked me over, brushing my wavy hair behind my ears. “When she gets home from her dance trip, I’ll end it.”

I took in a deep breath and tried not to show how excited I was at the news, but a grin made its way to my face nonetheless and I bit my lip hesitantly before asking a question I was sure I already knew the answer to. “Is it because of me?”

“You’ve shown me what it feels like to be happy again,” he explained quietly, thumb caressing my cheek. “I want that… I want to feel that every single day and I always feel that way when I’m with you.”

I swallowed hard and licked my lips, taking in a deep breath to try and keep myself from getting emotional. Was this what it felt like to be put first in somebody’s life? Somebody who had no obligation whatsoever to do so and still decided that you were such an important piece of their life that they wanted you to still be in it? This was a different feeling from when I became friends with the girls and I think it was because of the fact that there was a different kind of love here between me and him.

Things weren’t perfect. Neither of us were, nor was the situation we found ourselves in ideal, but the way he held me close as if he were afraid to let me go let me know that I was in good hands. I was safe from the insecurities that had crawled into my head and made me doubt what I knew I’d seen, and it was all thanks to him. The beautiful, green-eyed stranger at the bar.


	12. So Close

We slipped in and out of making love all night, between light kisses and whispered professions of everything we'd kept to ourselves for the past couple of months. It felt right, being there like that with him, like this was what was supposed to be all along.

Eventually we fell asleep wrapped up in each other's arms, though I don't recall when that happened. I was too focused on the way his strong arms held onto me like I would disappear if he let go even the slightest bit, and allowing myself to trace across the tattoos on his skin until I inevitably drifted off. It was one of the most peaceful sleeps I'd had in a long while, but this whole trip had seemed to do wonders for calming my nerves and making me able to get through the night without any terrors plaguing me.

Waking up the next morning with the sheets over my body, arms curled around a pillow, and Harry nowhere in sight sent me into a state of confusion, wondering if I had in fact dreamed all of it. The clock read a quarter until noon, so I wondered if maybe he’d left to go say his goodbyes to Niall and Gemma before they left for their honeymoon, but he would’ve woken me up to do the same if that were the case.

Sitting up, I rubbed my hand against my closed eyes and listened quietly, the hum of running water coming from the bathroom coming to my attention quickly followed by a melody being sung through the stream. It was muffled, but I could hear it clearly and smiled softly to myself, hearing him sing. It was beautiful and I knew I could listen to him sing forever. If I had my choice, I probably would have too.

Carefully, I slipped out of bed and made my way towards the bathroom, hoping to hear him more clearly. The wave of warmth hit me as I stepped into the humid room and I tried my hardest not to make too much commotion so he wouldn't notice my entrance, but the glass doors of the shower didn't do me any favors and he noticed me almost immediately, a cheeky grin coming to his face.

"Morning," he crooned, ducking his head beneath the stream of water to wash his hair free of shampoo. "Hope I didn't wake you."

"You didn't, but the singing was a nice thing to wake up to," I spoke, hoping my voice was loud enough to carry over the sound of the water.

"Care to join me?" He offered. I bit my lip, nodding hesitantly, then opened up the glass doors and stepped inside.

I'd never showered with anyone before, but I assumed it worked the same as showering on your own. Except now you had less space and more opportunities for kissing, which he took advantage of almost immediately by pulling me into him and capturing my lips in a few gentle kisses. I returned each one with a smile and allowed a soft laugh to fall from me as I did.

"Don't even care about morning breath?" I commented quietly.

"Not even a little," he replied, soft smile on his face. "I don't wanna miss a minute of being able to kiss you."

"You'll have to because I need to wash this hair spray out of my hair," I chuckled, but there was a grin on my face as he continued to pepper kisses against my lips regardless.

I pulled away and went to grab my conditioner from the small ledge in the shower, squirting some into my hand and bringing my hands up to his head. He raised a brow and smirked, ducking his head down so I could reach easier.

"Thank you," I said before giving his forehead a peck and then massaged my fingers through his hair.

"Any opportunity to not wash my own hair," he chuckled softly. Closing his eyes, he sighed and leaned his head into my touch, which made it easier to get the rest of the conditioner in before he stood back up to his full height.

He grabbed the washcloth that he’d set aside and put some body wash onto it, pulling me closer again and running it along my skin, the gel lathering into a foam. He watched me the whole time and I felt a shiver running down my spine, the eye contact a reminder of the events from last night.

“You alright?” he asked softly and I nodded, offering up a smile in response.

“Yeah, just don’t look at me like that unless you intend to do something to me. I can’t take the sexual stares,” I laughed some, the noise fading as a smirk curled onto his face.

Harry stood once more, tossed the rag onto the ledge with the bottles, and then turned to face me once more. “Well, I was trying to behave, but if you insist.”

"I was joki--oh!" A squeal left me as Harry picked me up off the ground, pressing my back against the side of the shower, the slick tiles cool against my skin. His lips moved swiftly along my neck and I couldn't help but let out a moan in between laughs as he continued. I wasn't going to complain.

Eventually, after a round in the shower -- or two depending on who you ask -- we finished washing up and got dressed for the day. This was going to be the final day of our trip and I had yet to do any sightseeing around London, so Harry insisted that we spend today doing that and stay another night at the hotel so we could get to the airport easier the next morning.

"Alright, are you ready to go?" He asked once I'd stepped out of the bathroom and turned out the light. He closed his laptop and stood from the desk where he'd been waiting.

He was wearing a simple outfit, but one much different from what I was used to seeing him in. Black skinny jeans, crisp white button down shirt with the top few buttons undone so his tattoos could peek through, black boots, sunglasses perched on top of his loose, long hair and a golden wrist watch to top off the ensemble. He looked incredibly handsome and I had to resist the urge to go over there and reignite the flames we'd already extinguished in the shower.

I raised a brow, motioning towards the computer still on the desk, an action which he quickly noticed and then he answered my unspoken question. "Oh, I was checking something out that I wanted to try while we were here. Wasn't sure if they still had it."

"What have you got up your sleeve, Mister Styles?" I inquired with a soft smirk, zipping up my makeup bag and setting it on top of my suitcase.

"That is for me to know and you to find out," he replied, giving a firm nod.

Shaking my head, I trailed across the room to my bedside table, making sure I had the necessities in my purse before we left. "I'm not very good with surprises," I informed him, then murmured off checklist of items in my purse to myself. "Wallet, phone, chapstick..."

"You'll love it, I promise." He made his way up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing the top of my head. "Only want this trip to be memorable for you, that's all."

"If you insist," I sighed. Turning around in his arms, I faced towards him with a soft smile. "I'm ready to go when you are."

"Get your shoes on then, c'mon now," he teased with a laugh, pecking my nose with a kiss before releasing me to do just that.

With my shoes on and things in hand, we made our way from the hotel room and out into the streets of London. It was busy, but it didn't feel nearly as packed as the streets back home, which was surprising to me. Harry made sure to hold onto my hand the whole way though, claiming it was because he didn't want to lose me in the crowd, but I didn't mind either way. Instead, I laced my fingers through the spaces between his and kept close to his side, permanent smile etched onto my face.

I tried not to think too much about whatever it was he was planning as we made our way further into the city. Knowing myself, I'd get worked up and anxious over it, thinking it'd be something over the top and extravagant when it'd be as simple as a personal tour guide to show us around. As much as I wouldn't mind that, I would also be fine with traveling around on foot to see the important things that everyone saw when they were in London, but he wanted to make it memorable for me. I hadn't told him before, but he already had. I knew that I wouldn't forget this trip for a very long time, regardless of what happened when we got back to New York.

We'd already walked a fair amount, but more of the city's landmarks were coming into closer view the longer we did and I had to admit that I was a bit floored at them all. Some were modern, but the older ones that held more history behind them were what caught my attention the most. As a writer, I began imagining all the possible stories that could've taken place between those walls. The wheels were turning in my mind and I could feel the inspiration that I'd lost while working at the club slowly filtering its way through my veins again.

"Alright, I think it's coming up here soon," he said, more to himself than anything, but the words still caught my attention.

"Where are we going?" I asked again, hoping that my luck in asking would pay off the second time around.

"You'll see. So impatient," he chuckled, giving my hand a squeeze.

I rolled my eyes and smiled, allowing him to drag me closer towards the river I assumed was the Thames. It was then that I noticed what looked to be a tour boat that was half full, people scattered about the seats and waiting for more arrivals. I looked up at him with a raised brow and smiled softly, pointing towards it.

"Is that what you meant when you said it was a surprise?"

"Something like that," he said with a shrug, looking down to me. "Depends if you like it or not."

"I've never been on a boat before," I admitted, glancing back over towards it.

We slowed down when we arrived near a ticket booth and he turned to face me properly, tipping my chin up so our gazes met. "It's up to you, love. We can do something else. If you'd rather we walk or catch a car, we can do that instead."

I paused for a moment, looking over his face. He seemed excited earlier at the prospect of taking me out on this river ride and I didn't want to disappoint him. Looking over the boat again, it seemed to be safe enough. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.

"You're taking a lot of my firsts this trip," I commented and I watched a grin beam across his face.

"You won't regret it," he said quickly, then made his way to the window to purchase our tickets.

I walked over to the railing that lined the edge of the river and stared out across it, taking in the scenery while I waited. London really was a beautiful city. Even though I grew up in New York my whole life, there wasn't anything about it that really made me want to stay. Of course I had my mom and the girls and everyone at the diner, but other than them, the city held no good memories for me. There was something about London though that called to me. Perhaps it was just the newness of it all making it more exciting than it really is in the day-to-day, but it made the knowledge that we had to leave the city tomorrow even more disappointing.

“And we are good to go,” Harry cheered, bounding over towards me. “Got here just in time too. Here’s your ticket. We should probably get on board now, they’re leaving in about five minutes.”

I took the ticket and nodded, smiling as his hand made its way to the small of my back -- I was growing quite fond of the touch, in all honesty -- and we made our way down to the boarding dock, handed over our tickets to be scanned, and stepped on board the ship.

The subtle rocking motion of the boat against the water was the first thing I noticed and I reached out, grabbing onto Harry’s arm to keep myself steady. Hearing him laugh made me turn to look at him and he was trying his hardest to keep from laughing too hard at my reaction, though the dimple pressing into his cheek was a clear giveaway of how amusing he thought this whole thing was.

“You alright?” he asked, words still laced with laughter.

Giving him a quick glare, I hit his bicep with a balled fist. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“Heeey, I’m not,” he whined, pout taking over his face and his brows knitting together in that way they always seemed to when he got grumpy. “I thought you were being cute, that’s all.”

“Uh huh,” I huffed, in some fake attempt at pretending I was mad, but as I walked away to find a seat on deck, a smile threatened to break out onto my face and give away that I wasn’t really mad. I think he noticed because he pointed at me before darting to catch up with me, prompting me to bite my lip to suppress the smile before looking up at him with an expectant look. “Yes?”

“You were smiling just now, weren’t you?” he inquired, eyes narrowed as he looked over my face.

I shook my head, but turned my face away from his direct view when I felt a chuckle low in my belly that almost made its way up and showed itself in my features. I played it off as if I were looking for seats, but with Harry watching me like a hawk, I knew it was only a matter of time before he noticed.

“You are smiling!”

“No I’m not!” I exclaimed in return, finally looking at him, but by this time my face was bright with a smile and light laughter fell past my lips, only prompting more finger pointing in my direction from the tall man beside me.

“I _knew_ you weren’t actually upset with me. How could you ever be? Look at me, I’m adorable,” he chuckled, beaming from ear to ear.

I rolled my eyes with another small laugh at his words. “I’ve been upset with you once before, I can do it again.”

“That was one time,” he reminded me, puffing his chest out in a triumphant manner. “And you weren’t upset for very long, were you? And it’s because you think I’m adorable.”

“Will you stop saying that if I agree that you’re adorable?” I asked, watching him nod in response. “Okay. You’re adorable. But that won’t always save you in the future, remember that.”

“You really think I’d be able to upset you that badly?” he asked.

Before I could respond, the whistle on the ship began to blow signifying our departure from the dock and we were urged to find a seat so we wouldn’t fall over once the boat began moving. We grabbed two seats around the middle of the ship and towards the side so we could see over the railing more easily, but I had Harry sit closer to the water so that I wouldn’t get nervous looking out over the edge in the same way I had on the flight.

As the boat began to speed up and coast through the water, the tour guide up front explained to us each of the significant landmarks that we’d pass along the Thames, the first of which being the London Eye since it had been closest to our take off point.

“You wanna go on that when we get back?” he whispered into my ear. “It’s pretty fun your first go around.”

I looked up at it as it passed us slowly by and bit my lip, looking over to Harry. “I don’t know. Looks like any old ferris wheel to me… except three times the size, maybe.”

“Well, it is technically, but it’s more for observation than for the go around itself. You can see most of London from up there. That’s why they call it the Eye,” he explained, mimicking the tour guide’s voice for a moment and causing me to let out a small laugh which I covered with my hand.

“I guess we can then,” I finally replied once I’d lowered my hand again. “You’ll have to hold my hand though.”

“You make it sound like it’s a chore.” Harry’s hand reached over and took mine, his fingers slipping between mine and giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. “It would be my honour to hold your hand, Miss Beaumont.”

“You’re making me swoon, Mister Styles. I think I quite fancy you,” I giggled, putting on a Southern drawl like I’d heard Rita use all the time.

He grinned, closing the space between us as his lips met mine and I returned the kiss easily, my other hand reaching up to cup his cheek. We only held the kiss for a moment though, if only because I recalled we were in public and surrounded by people no less, but I left my hand in his, turning my focus back towards the tour guide and everything he was showing us, all the while feeling Harry’s thumb stroking along the back of my hand. It was soothing and helped me to forget that we were cruising down the river on a boat that could potentially tip over and throw us all overboard.

The tour itself lasted about an hour and it took us through to see important pieces of history like Big Ben, Parliament, Tower Bridge, and the Tower of London. When Harry had told me before about London, I never thought I would end up here, yet here I was with him riding through the Thames River with heart so full it could burst.

I didn’t want to go home. Not just yet, anyway. Sure, I missed my mom, but I had Dory checking in on her for me and I’d call when I could, but being here was something I needed. I think Harry could tell because there wasn’t a moment while we were out that he wasn’t making contact in some way, whether it was his hand in mine, on the small of my back, or arm brushing against my own from standing too close together. It was comforting and though I typically liked to have my own space, I didn’t mind sharing it with him.

After the tour, we did a little shopping where I picked up some souvenirs for the girls and mom -- a few t-shirts for everyone, a snow globe with London landmarks for Dory, a charm bracelet for Olivia, two shot glasses for Daphne, and a collection of various teas for mom to try out -- then we stopped somewhere to get food, figuring we would save the ride on the Eye for around sunset since he insisted the view was far more spectacular then.

It took awhile for the sun to hang low in the sky, but as we walked along the riverside, we noticed the beautiful hues of oranges and pinks coloring the sky and reflecting along the surface of the water. Turning to look at him, I sent a hesitant smile his way. “Looks like it’s time?”

“Think so,” he commented quietly, turning his attention away from the sky to catch my gaze. “You’ll be alright, I promise.”

“You’ve done a lot of that today,” I remarked softly.

“Guess you bring that side out of me,” he said in response, faint smile traced across his lips.

Though the thought was nice, I never really gave much weight to promises that other people made to me unless they came from my mom. I knew she was trustworthy and as much as I wanted to believe Harry was too, he was sneaking behind his wife’s back with me. There had to be an element of deceit in all of that that could easily translate to whatever it was we had, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. I didn’t want to ruin what could possibly be our last night together for a long time. I knew as soon as I was back in New York, we’d both be getting back to work and I’d have to take on more shifts to cover the week’s worth of money I lost by being here. Who knew how busy he would be at the tattoo parlor now that it was summer.

Harry led me over to the ticketing booth at the foot of the London Eye and while he paid for our ride, I looked up at the structure towering over us, an anxious feeling building up in my stomach with every passing moment. It wasn’t until I felt Harry’s hand on my shoulder that I realized he’d been trying to get my attention and I jumped slightly, looking up at the now chuckling face of the man beside me.

“Thought I’d lost you there for a minute. They’re all ready for us.”

“Ready for us?” I asked, brows raised.

“Yeah, c’mon.” Harry’s face was lit up with another grin and I was hesitant to follow, wondering what mischief he’d gotten up to now, but I did regardless. He led me past the queue of people waiting in line to board into the large capsules, meeting up with a worker on the other end who greeted us and led us into one, the doors closing behind us. Inside, there was a table with a bottle of champagne sitting in ice, a box of chocolates, and a bouquet of flowers sitting right in the center.

“Aren’t more people going to get on with us?” I asked, confused as it was only the two of us, plus the woman who’d escorted us onto the capsule.

“No, ma’am. This is a private capsule for the two of you. Pretend like I’m not even here,” she informed me with a polite smile, moving over to the table to pour out two glasses of champagne and then heading to the opposite end of the capsule to leave us alone.

I was stunned. Looking over at Harry, I saw him looking at me with his lip caught between his teeth and a hopeful look written across his facial features. It was then that I realized that this was what he’d been setting up while on the computer earlier today, not the tour boat. That was why he looked so nervous and expectant of any sort of answer I could possibly give him, as if he were looking for my approval.

“You’re sneaky, you know that?” I said quietly, stepping over towards him and wrapping my arms around his neck loosely. Standing onto my tip-toes, I extended myself up to kiss him and he returned it slowly, his hands falling naturally to my waist and holding me close to him.

When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead down against mine, soft smile on his lips. “I told you. I wanted to make this memorable for you.”

“You succeeded,” I assured him, my smile only growing more.

He pecked a kiss to the tip of my nose before leading me to the table, picking up both champagne flutes and handing one over to me. “To London, for making dreams come true.”

“To us,” I added, raising my glass once I’d taken it from him. The glasses lightly tapped against each other and we each took a sip before settling in to watch the scenery of London aglow with the fire of sunset, my back leaned up against his chest as he held me close.

If I could have paused this moment and kept it in a picture frame, I knew it would’ve been one of my most prized possessions. I wanted to stay like this -- here with him, no cares in the world, sipping champagne and eating luxury chocolates that tasted like heaven. There was a piece of me that wanted to believe it could be like this: that he would stick to his word and leave Jasmine for good, that we could be together.

I spent one night at his apartment with him when we got home, but we then went our separate ways, going back to what we had been before the trip. Lots of gaps in communication, going days without seeing or hearing from each other, waiting for another magical moment like the nights we spent together.

I had almost deceived myself into believing that this could last forever, but the life we had in London wasn't a life we could continue back home. We were both so close to having everything we wanted that I let my guard down and allowed someone into my life that I knew couldn't stay. Only in my wildest dreams would we ever get our happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry for the late update this week! I'm taking some summer classes that started last week and I started a new job a couple weeks ago and with the way they scheduled my training, I wasn't able to have time to sit and write to where I felt like the chapter would be of decent quality. I'm still not too fond of it, but hopefully you guys don't find it terrible.
> 
> Next chapter though, you should expect some twists and turns. It's gonna be a bumpy ride!


	13. Cannonball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tfw you fall asleep before you post your update hahaha sorry about this being late, hopefully the few of you reading can forgive me!

I hadn't returned to the club immediately after getting back from London. I allowed myself a few days to rest and resync my sleep schedule to being back on the east coast and took on a couple shifts at the diner to make sure I had some sort of income, but it was only a matter of time before Richie would start to wonder where I had disappeared to and I didn't want him to try and find me. Lord knows what he would do to me when he did.

I knew the girls would want to see me as soon as I got back into town so I could tell them about my trip, a thought confirmed by a text I got from Dory asking if I wanted to have another sleepover soon, though it'd probably only be the two of us. I asked about Daphne, but Dory said she hadn't been around the past couple nights and nobody had heard from her, including Olivia. That got me worried, but Daphne had a tendency to disappear sporadically, sometimes for weeks at a time, so I tried not to think too much of it. That didn't keep me from sending a message her way to make sure she was alright though. She would turn up eventually, I had to keep telling myself that.

Part of me wasn't sure if I was ready to tell either of them about what happened, or if I even wanted to tell them in the first place. Dory would be curious, that I was sure of, but I'd gone against basically everything they had advised me to do, so they'd probably be upset with me for crossing that line. I still had gifts to bring to them though and bringing them to the club might not be the best idea, especially if Richie saw them. I guess that left me with making my rounds before heading back to work.

I didn't bother to unpack much when I got home, only having grabbed out my dirty clothes to wash, the bag of souvenirs that I'd left sitting on top of my dresser, and the beautiful crimson dress that now hung securely in the back of my closet. I didn't know if I would ever have a chance to wear it again, but I didn't want mom to see it and ask where I'd gotten it from. To her knowledge, Harry and I were nothing more than good friends. Maybe that's all we still were.

I shook the thought from my head and then grabbed onto my phone, looking through my short list of contacts. If I was going to bring people their gifts before staying the night with Dory, then I figured I could stop by Olivia's on the way to drop hers off in the process.

" _Hey Liv, I'm back in the country. I have something for you. Would I be able to bring it by today?_ "

I set my phone down and pulled a few things out of my half-full suitcase, tucking them away into my usual overnight bag. I knew mom probably wouldn't be home until late, so I left a note on the counter for her once I'd gathered everything I needed from the bathroom. I hated leaving her alone so much lately, but she always insisted that she didn't mind. I hoped that was actually true and not her lying to keep me from feeling badly about having somewhat of a social life.

By the time I came back to my room, my phone had lit up with a new text from Olivia.

" _Sure, girly! I've got Eden today, I hope that's alright. She wants to say hi._ "

I paused for a moment, smile growing as I read over the words, though it was more of a bittersweet one, if anything. I had been so wrapped up in everything in my own world that I hadn't kept up with the things in Olivia's the past few months. Something good must have happened for Eden's grandmother to allow Olivia to have her alone for a full day and I hadn't been there to celebrate with her.

" _Of course it's okay. I can't wait to see you and meet her finally. We have so much to share._ "

With my things packed and shoes on, I headed out the door and made my way towards Olivia's apartment. The heat beating down on my shoulders was intense, but I thought the walk would help me to clear my head from the swimming thoughts. Between the guilt I felt for not realizing things were going on back home with Olivia and Daphne to the worry I had over the status of my relationship with Harry, my chest felt tight and not even the fresh air seemed to be helping.

I felt selfish, like the only thing that had really been on my mind lately was Harry and I'd neglected my friends in the process. What was happening with Dory? Had she and the boy she'd been talking to gone on another date yet? And what about mom? Had there been something I'd missed while I was away?

I was so deep in thought that I walked out into the middle of an intersection without checking to see if any cars were there, my heart leaping into my throat when I was pulled out of the way of an oncoming taxi that honked on its way past. I apologized profusely -- to whom, I wasn't sure -- and quickly ran the rest of the way across, standing on the other side with my hand clasping at the front of my shirt over top of my heart.

"Jesus..." I muttered under my breath, leaning against the outside of a convenience store to let my heart rate go back to normal.

"Are you alright, Mikayla?"

Hearing a familiar voice say my name, I looked up and noticed Shaina, the dark-haired girl I'd met at the last sleepover, staring at me with a worried crease in her brow.

"I'm okay," I insisted, standing up straighter and shifting my bag on my shoulder so the strap wasn't digging into my bicep. "Thank you for that."

"You don't have to thank me for doing what anyone would do," she assured me, but I was still grateful.

"Around here, you never really know," I admitted with a sigh. "Sometimes people look the other way and pretend like nothing's happening."

"Believe me, I know," Shaina said with a frown. I began wondering what it was that prompted her to say that the way she did, but I knew I was on a schedule, albeit a loose one, so I couldn't stand around and listen to her whole life story right now.

"Cabbies are assholes, and you're my savior," I continued with a light laugh before quickly pulling my phone from my pocket and handing it to her. "I want to take you out for lunch or something to thank you, so pick a day you're free and put it in the calendar."

"You really don't have to do that, Mikayla," she said, but she was smiling regardless. She took the phone from me, flipped through the days on the calendar, created a new event, and handed my phone back to me when she was finished. "Not to thank me, anyway. I wouldn't mind having lunch and getting to know more about you though."

I was a little surprised at the fact that she found me intriguing enough to want to learn about, but I had to admit that I wanted to know more about the enigma in front of me. All I really knew was her first name, what she majored in, and that her clothes looked more expensive than most of the things in my own wardrobe so she must be well off, but otherwise she was a complete mystery to me. Maybe she felt the same about me, though she knew more into my mind than I did hers after listening to me talk about Harry and my situation.

"Yeah, I'd like that," I finally replied, offering a soft smile and nodding. "I'll text you and we'll figure something out."

"That sounds good to me." Shaina smiled back. "Where are you headed?"

"I'm going to see a work friend and then spending the night with Dory," I explained. "What about you? This doesn't really seem like the neighborhood someone like you would be in."

"Oh." She paused, almost like she didn't know what to say and was thinking up an excuse. That made me curious. Why wouldn't she have a reason readily available? "I was meeting a friend, but they canceled on me."

The hesitation in her words was suspicious, but I tried not to think too much of it. Nodding a bit, I shifted my bag once more and checked the time on the front of my phone, noticing it was getting late into the afternoon. If I was going to spend any time with Olivia, I'd need to be there soon so I wouldn't interrupt any meal times.

"I should get going," I said, tucking my phone away. "I'll talk to you later, Shaina."

"I'll see you soon. Take care of yourself, Mikayla."

With that, I turned and headed off again, walking faster than I had before but paying more attention this time around so I didn't have another unfortunate mishap. The end of the meeting with Shaina had left me uneasy, but I couldn't place why. If she hadn't been there, I would've spent plenty of nights laid up in a hospital bed or possibly worse, but I couldn't help feeling like her reason she'd given for being in my neighborhood was a lie.

I brushed it off as me being paranoid and tried to forget about it all together as I finally made it to the block Olivia's apartment was on. I'd stopped into a small store on the way and grabbed a case of mini cupcakes, assuming that if there were good news to share that we should have something appropriate to celebrate the occasion, and I clasped them in my hands while I made my way up the steps to her apartment.

Approaching the door, I could hear the noise of a musical toy playing inside and I laughed, silently glad that I wasn't their neighbor. As much as I loved Olivia, the walls in these apartments always seemed to be paper thin and noise carried easily. I'd never be able to have any peace and quiet that way.

I knocked on the door and waited patiently for someone to answer. After a moment, I heard the toy quieting down and a scurry of footsteps rushing towards the door.

"Momma, momma, Mikaya's here!" I heard exclaimed from the other side of the door.

As expected, the door swung open and my grin grew as Eden stood there, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. The little girl had the curliest, dark brown hair I'd seen, pulled up into two pigtails on top of her head, a gap-toothed smile that took over her face, and Olivia's button nose rounding out her face.

"Hi there," I greeted, smile wide as I crouched down so I could be at her level. "You must be Eden."

"Uh huh," she replied with a big nod. "And you're Mikaya, right?"

"Mikayla, but you can call me Mikki if it's easier?" I suggested, chuckling at the mispronunciation. Never realize how difficult my name could be to say for a five year old.

"Like Mickey Mouse?" She asked, tilting her head slightly.

"Just like Mickey Mouse," I laughed, looking over the girl's cheerful face and simply admiring her presence for a few moments. I had heard so many stories about her over the past few years that I felt as if I already knew her, but meeting someone after learning so much about them was always an experience like no other, especially with children and how unpredictable they could be. "Your mom's told me a lot about you. I'm so glad I get to meet you now. Is she inside?"

"She's right here," Olivia chimed in as she walked up behind Eden, looking a mixture of exhausted and content. "Sorry about that, I was in the middle of cleaning up a spill. _Someone_ got too excited and knocked their cup off the table.

I could only imagine how hard it had to be being a single mother, especially if a rambunctious child. I always admired their strength. Having watched my mother struggle to do right by me for years, it gave me a real appreciation for how much they did to make sure we had what they believed we deserved.

Scrunching my nose, I looked back down to Eden. "Did you help your mom clean up your mess?"

"No," the little girl admitted, pouting.

"Next time that happens, I think you should help her. It'll make the job go by twice as fast," I said with another soft smile and a nod, trying not to sound as if I were reprimanding her.

"Okaaay," she sighed, then turned on her heel and darted back into the apartment.

"She's still adjusting to new house rules," Olivia chuckled. "Come on in."

I stood to my full height and shifted my bag on my shoulder, which seemed to catch Olivia's attention once I'd made my way into the apartment.

"Didn't you just get back from a trip? Where are you headed off to so soon?" She asked, closing the door behind me and heading back into the open living room.

I followed her, setting most of my things down off to the side so they wouldn't be in the way, and sat beside her on the couch with the souvenir bag in hand. "I'm staying at Dory's tonight. She wants all the details on the trip and there are quite a few of them," I admitted as I pulled the gift wrapped box from the bag, handing it over. "This is for you."

Olivia's brow raised at my statement and she reached over to grab the box, setting it into her lap instead of opening it right away. "A lot of details and you don't expect me to ask for them?"

I made a face and chuckled, tucking some hair back behind my ear. "I was kind of hoping you wouldn't?"

"I need to know what happened while you were over there. Dory told me you were going with a guy, and from the sounds of it, something happened between you."

Well, she wasn't wrong.

I shrugged and set the bag down beside my feet, letting out a sigh while I tried to figure out where to start. How much had Dory told her about Harry? Did she know he was married? Should I tell her everything? Olivia had always been someone I could look to for judgment-free advice, and with the way things were so uncertain right now, maybe a few words of wisdom could help me figure out what my next step should be.

"Do you remember the guy who used to come to the club a lot to see me?" I asked, though after a moment I realized how vague it sounded considering the amount of men who filtered in there daily. "With the long hair and tattoos. He sat at the bar a lot at first before he started coming up to my room each visit."

Olivia thought for a moment before nodding, raising a brow as if wondering how that was relevant to my story. "Is that the guy you traveled with?"

"Yeah," I sighed, nibbling on my bottom lip. "We've... We've hung out outside of the club for a little while since then and his sister was getting married but his wife couldn't go, so he invited me along to be his plus one an--"

"Hold it," she interrupted, her hand raising a bit to silence me. "Did you say his wife?"

Carefully, I nodded. I watched as her lips pursed in that way they did before she sighed through her nose, shaking her head. "Mikayla Evelyn Beaumont."

There was the full name. I was in trouble.

"It's... They're not really together," I started, though I knew that legally they still were. That was only a minor detail. "From everything that Harry and his family have said, it hasn't been a relationship for a really long time. I just... I don't know. I didn't want to end up being the other woman, but he said he was going to leave her so we could be together."

"When did he say this to you though? Was it before or after you gave in?"

I paused for a few moments, taking in a deep breath. "After."

"Baby girl, please be careful." Olivia frowned, reaching over to take my hand in both of hers and giving it a squeeze. "Men will say whatever they can to make sure they can still get you in bed with them. I don't want you to make the same mistake I did and keep giving yourself over to a fool who's only going to use you and break your heart. Eden's one of the best things that's ever happened to me, but all of the pain that came before it and after it with her father? You couldn't pay me enough to do that all over again. She's a blessing that came out of a bad situation. You're so young and bright, and you have so much to look forward to. Don't throw that all away over an affair."

I didn't know the situation that had led to Olivia being on her own raising Eden because she rarely talked about it. Clearly it hadn't been a good one, but I probably could've gathered that by how she stayed mum on the subject and never mentioned a father in the picture. Had he been like my father who found out and then wanting nothing to do with me or had their been other, more malicious circumstances that led to his absence? Maybe that was why I found myself wanting to meet the little girl when I usually wasn't too fond of most children; we had a connection, in that sense.

Maybe she was right. Maybe they were all right. It would make sense. Why else would Harry enter into anything with me until he was 100% free to do so? Why hadn't I made absolutely certain that he'd left Jasmine before we got involved? Was I really as weak-willed as my actions made me seem or did I do this intentionally from the start? Maybe I kept telling myself nothing would happen and that I'd stop spending time with him to make myself feel better and quell any quilt that came up, and God, had it been working right up until now.

"Mikayla, are you alright?"

Olivia's voice caught my attention and brought me back to the present. That was when I realized I had been gripping onto her hand pretty tightly and my heart beat was beginning to race.

I let go of her hands and nodded fervently, standing up from the couch. I didn't really know what I was doing until I started to gather my things in a hurry, taking in deep breaths to try and steady my racing pulse.

"Mikayla, wait," Olivia started, but I shook my head, pulling my bag back up into my shoulder.

"I need to go," I said, my voice breaking midway making me realize what sort of emotional state I was in. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disappoint you."

"Mikayla, stop." Olivia stood and made her way over to me, taking my shaking hands again and looking me right in the face, though I refused to look into her eyes. "You're getting yourself worked up... Mikayla, look at me."

"I'm sorry..." I repeated the words in a hushed tone, closing my eyes in an attempt to collect myself before looking up at her.

"Stop apologizing to me," she said, bringing one hand up to rest on the side of my face and thumb grazing across my cheek. "I'm not your mother. You don't have to worry about disappointing me. I'm concerned about you though, that's why I said what I did. I don't want you to get wrapped up in a mess of a situation any more than you already are."

I nodded a bit, swallowing hard as I looked at her. She didn't have that look in her eye that she got when she decided that someone was a lost cause, one I'd seen many times in my time at the club. That was at least a little reassuring.

She kissed my forehead and the soft touch was all it took to break the wall that had been crumbling down around me. My bag fell to the floor and I wrapped my arms around her tiny frame, head on her shoulder as I began to cry.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd cried like this -- not out of joy or having my heartstrings tugged at by a movie, but real, genuine tears of all of the negative thoughts that I'd built up in my head over the past couple of months. The guilt I'd been suppressing for so long had found its way to the surface and now I was crying like a child in Olivia's arms, still just as uncertain as I had been about what to do as I had been when I came in, if not more.

"It'll be alright, lolita," she whispered softly into my ear, her arms wrapped around me and one hand caressing my back.

I didn't say anything. Only held onto her tighter and waited for the tears to stop. Eden came over at one point and joined in on the hug, her little arms wrapping around our knees, and I had to admit it did help me feel a little better.

Before I left, I gave Eden a proper hug and made sure I left the mini cupcakes I'd bought with them as a token of thanks. I didn't know when I would be back or if Eden would be here the next time I was, but I knew one thing for sure. I needed to talk to Harry.


	14. Say Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not an important note, but here's [a compilation of pictures](http://i.imgur.com/OYmp9K7.png) of what the inside of Harry and Jasmine's apartment looks like. Fancy, huh?

Once I had managed to calm down, I texted Dory to let her know that something came up and I wouldn’t be able to stay the night. What Olivia said had struck a chord in me and I knew that I needed to see Harry to stop my mind from racing with all of the worries she’d put in my head. The reason why I hardly ever let people close to me is that I’m terrified of the possibility of them leaving. Harry was the first exception to that in a long time and I’d tried to convince myself this would work somehow. I knew she was right in worrying, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about some of the things she’d brought up myself, but I had tried to keep myself from thinking about it because I’d felt on top of the world the whole time I was with him.

I wanted that feeling to last. I was scared that I might even need it to counteract all of the shitty things that I had to endure on a nearly daily basis at work. I didn’t want to depend on him for that, but as I filed into a taxi and gave the driver Harry’s address, I found myself uncertain if I was able to give myself any sort of happiness that I hadn’t already given myself.

Traffic was unbearable, but going across the bridge into Manhattan always seemed to be that way. I rarely trekked this far out, but I knew that Harry would either be at home or he’d be at work and both were in the Lower East Side, so I didn’t have much choice.

I pulled my phone out of my bag and found his number in my contacts list, careful not to hit another name with my still shaky fingers. I decided it’d be easier to call than to type out a message and I might get a more immediate response than I had been getting every other time I’d tried texting him since we’d gotten home, but my only hope was that I’d be able to see him.

The phone rang once, twice, and nearly a third time when the sound in the receiver changed from the tone to a hum of low music and slight buzzing of tattoo guns in the background. Clearly he was at work and now I felt terrible for calling him and interrupting him, but he wouldn’t have answered if he was busy, right? 

“Mikayla?” It was evident in his voice that he was confused as to why I was calling, but there was also a tinge of worry in his words. Understandable considering the slight sniffling I was doing into the phone while I tried to figure out what to say. “Mikayla, are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry,” I said, shaking my head to try and collect my thoughts. “I, um… I’m sorry for calling you at work.”

“S’alright, I had a cancelation so I’m manning the desk while Jeff gets us dinner. Are you alright?” he asked, edge of concern growing more.

“Not really,” I admitted with a soft chuckle. I felt ridiculous for still being so upset. He answered my call while he was at work. Maybe he’s just very bad at texting. Yeah, I’ll go with that. “Is it okay if I stop in and see you? It’s okay if it’s not for long, I just… I could really use a hug right now.”

“Yeah, of course, babe. Do you wanna talk about what’s going on?”

“Not right now, but when we’re alone, yeah.”

Looking up, I noticed the cab turning onto Norfolk Street, the street his apartment complex was on. I remember watching from my window as the building was being constructed across the river, but being beside the towering Blue Condominium building was far more intimidating, the length of which seemed to be covered head to toe in a beautiful blue glass that acted as windows for the couple dozen condos and apartments inside. The inside was even more spectacular, wide open spaces and furniture that could probably pay for two years worth of rent on my rinky dink apartment. I felt out of place just standing in there, but Harry looked out of place too. The elegance of the apartment and minimalistic design of it all spoke to the controlling nature Jasmine seemed to have. None of it resembled Harry or his fun and lightness in the slightest. I vaguely wondered how he felt about it while I wandered the apartment that first night back, but didn’t feel it appropriate to ask.

I took notice of my overnight bag seated beside me on the back seat and let out a soft sigh. “Can I leave something in your apartment before I stop by? I was going to spend the night at my friend’s so I have some clothes and other things, but I don’t wanna drag them with me all over.”

“Yeah, I’ll call the doorman so he knows you’re coming,” Harry said. I heard some shuffling on the other end as if he were making himself more comfortable wherever he was seated. “I’ll text you the address of the shop for when you’re done there, yeah? Unless you wanna wait for me there. I’m off in about two hours. You sound like you’re exhausted.”

Was it really that easy to tell? I’d worn myself out earlier from crying to Olivia -- I could feel it in the way my eyes stung -- but I didn’t know it could be easily heard over the phone. There must’ve been something in my voice that gave it away.

“Yeah, maybe,” I sighed, pulling out my wallet so I could pay the driver as he pulled up out front of the apartment. “I’ll see if I can get a nap in.”

“That’s my girl. Key's in the plant outside. I’ll call in to Bernard now, you get some rest and I’ll bring you back some take away. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“See you soon,” I replied softly. I was reluctant to hang up the phone, but the line went dead soon after and I sighed, setting my phone in my bag as I paid for the ride. I stepped out onto the sidewalk and was greeted almost immediately by an elderly man that was stood by the door, making his way to me and taking up my bag with a wide smile.

"Hello, miss," he greeted. "I presume you're Miss Beaumont, Mr. Styles' guest?"

"I am, and you must be Bernard," I responded with a faint smile. "You didn't have to do that, I could carry it."

"It's part of my job," he assured me with a wave of his free hand, flexing his arm to show off an imaginary muscle beneath the fabric of his dark uniform jacket. "Besides, I need to keep these muscles limber for my mister."

I couldn't help but laugh a bit at his comment, but to know someone who was as sweet as he was the two times I'd encountered him wasn't alone. "In that case, I guess I can let you so he'll be happy with you."

We walked the short distance to the elevator with idle chatter and a part of me wanted to stay down here in the lobby to talk with him and not be left to my own thoughts, but I didn't want to keep him from being able to perform his duties. I thanked him again and pulled a couple of dollars from my wallet to tip him, insisting he take it despite his refusal, and then headed up towards the tenth floor for Harry's condo.

I grabbed the key in the plant and made my way inside, that out of place feeling taking me over as I stepped into the empty apartment. It felt even colder without Harry there, but I knew that in a few hours he would be and then things would be okay. At least I hoped they would be. I don’t know why, but I thought that hearing him promise that things would be alright and he’d keep to his word would make me feel better after everything. Why I’d set the standard so low for that, I don’t think I’ll ever know.

After getting myself a glass of water, I moved to the living room and looked out the nearly floor to ceiling window pane, taking in the perfect view of the Brooklyn skyline illuminated by the sunset. I was almost certain I could see my building from there and the thought of Harry looking for me in the middle of the night, though I knew it was a foolish thought. When he was here -- when he was with her -- I was probably a passing thought, if that.

I settled down onto the red couch and took a long swig of my water before setting it onto the coffee table. Removing my shoes, I pulled my legs up onto the cushions with me and readjusted the pillows so I could rest my head on them properly and try to get in a nap before he got back. I doubted that I’d be able to, though, not with my mind racing the way it was.

I ended up laying there for half an hour before my body gave in to sleep. I didn’t know how long I was out until I felt strong arms holding onto me and Harry’s voice in my ear, repeatedly trying to comfort me and telling me it was alright.

My eyes wide, I finally came out of the state I was in and noticed the rapid beating of my heart, thin layer of sweat coating my forehead, and the rawness in my throat. I looked up to see Harry staring down at me with a creased brow and worry written across his features.

I’d had a night terror.

“What happened?” he asked, his own breathing steadying as he realized that I was conscious. “Y-You were… you were screaming and I thought something had happened and you wouldn’t wake up, I didn’t know what to do.”

I could feel his arms shaking as he cradled me in his arms, his stuttering catching my attention the most. I’d never seen him get this emotional about anything, but the legitimate fear he was showing now as he held onto me meant something to me. Something important. He genuinely cared about me.

“I’m okay, I… I’m alright now,” I assured him, my words soft. I grimaced a bit at the hoarseness of my voice when I spoke. I don’t know how long I’d been screaming, but it must’ve been awhile before I was finally roused out of unconsciousness.

I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face into the crook of his neck, not wanting to leave the comfort of his embrace. I knew I was stressed about all of this, but I didn’t think it had been bad enough to bring these about again. We sat like this for many quiet moments as I regained my composure. His hand caressed my back and I could feel him pressing his lips against my temple every couple of seconds, muttering some variation of comforting words into my ear.

My heart rate was back to normal and I sighed before I carefully uncurled myself in his lap. I felt his hold on me loosen and he looked down at me, the concern still on his face, but less so now that things had blown over.

“You sure you’re alright?” he asked, voice quiet. He reached a hand up and brushed my hair out of my face before cupping my cheek, brushing his thumb along the curve of my cheekbone. I leaned into his touch and nodded some, closing my eyes.

“It was a night terror,” I began, looking at him once more. “I had them a lot as a kid and they still happen sometimes, but I’m okay.”

“What brought it on, do you think?” he asked.

I didn’t want to say it, but the whole reason I had come all this way was to talk to him about what Olivia had said. Biting my lip, I looked down at my lap. I tried to focus on anything that wasn’t his face so I could pull myself together enough to explain properly.

“Stress usually. I, um… I wanted to talk to you about something. Actually, I need to ask you something.”

Harry’s brows furrowed and he nodded, tucking hair back behind my ear. “What’s on your mind, love?”

“Are you going to leave her?”

A pause. “What?”

“Are you going to leave Jasmine?” The second time, my words were quieter, but I knew he could hear me when I heard the elongated sigh leave him.

“I told you I would, didn’t I?” he replied, his thumb carefully stroking along my thigh and the other tipping my chin up so I could look at him. He looked confused as to why I was bringing it up again and I knew that I should explain further why the insecurity had crept up into me, but I couldn’t tell him I’d been talking about our situation to other people.

“You did, but I… I don’t know. People say one thing and do another and I started to overthink it an--”

“Hey hey hey…” Bringing a finger up, he placed it over my lips to shush me. “S’alright. I get being worried, but would I lie to you?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

“I wouldn’t.” He was firm in his words and his gaze never wavered. I found comfort in those same green eyes that had drawn me to him in the first place, in the way they held a sincerity that I wasn’t used to seeing. “Once Jas comes back from her trip, I’m gonna tell her. I need to sort out where I’m gonna go first, but it’ll happen. I swear. Only a few more weeks.”

I wanted so badly to believe him. I wanted to trust that he was being honest and that he would stay with me, and despite the nagging voice in the back of my mind, I stared at him as I swallowing hard around the lump that formed in my throat, and nodded slowly. “I trust you.”

“You’ve no reason not to,” he replied, pink lips curling upward into a smile. “Now you’re gonna stay here with me tonight and we’re gonna forget all about this, yeah?”

A faint laugh slipped past my lips and the sound made Harry’s smile grow even more, the gesture echoed on my own. I would try to forget my worries for one night, if only because I was with him now. I needed this. I needed to feel like I was important to him and, in that moment, making me feel better was his main priority. I felt some sense of peace about it, even though I had to wait until August for anything to move forward and become official between us.

And I waited. I’d like to say I did so patiently, but there were times when I grew frustrated at the fact that I couldn’t wake up beside him in the middle of the night or kiss him in the mornings. He got better about texting back and forth, keeping me updated on the happenings at work, but he rarely mentioned searching for somewhere else to live. I knew how difficult apartment hunting could be and I assumed he didn’t want me to get my hopes up, but I still wondered if he was actually looking into it.

I didn’t have much time to think about it though with everything else happening around me. Richie watched me like a hawk the moment I got back to work, forcing me to work longer hours so he could have some alone time with me, part of which included a punishment for disappearing for so long without telling him where I was going. I took it silently, like always. I knew the pain was temporary.

Daphne still hadn’t returned to the club or return any of our calls, and Dory and I were beginning to worry more about where she could’ve gone. We knew if she had managed to get enough money to head back to Greece to find her family she would’ve told us, but she disappeared almost without a trace. I wondered if maybe she had fallen back into the cocaine habit she’d worked her way out of and if something terrible had happened, but I didn’t want to scare Dory even more, so I kept the thought to myself.

Harry had given me a few shirts of his to sleep with when I couldn't be with him at night -- ones he knew Jasmine would never notice being gone -- and I used them to help calm my nerves enough to sleep at night. That along with a sweater he let me borrow on the plane back, I was able to pretend like he was there with me. They smelled like him, like clean linens and a gentle musk. I tried not to wear them too often so that smell wouldn't go away, but it was hard when I had so many things taking up residence in my head.

August rolled around and the sweltering heat was beginning to die down into the cusp of fall weather. Each day passing made me more anxious, awaiting the news that I’d been hoping for since London, and each day passed with no word from Harry. It was disheartening, but I tried not to lose faith. Maybe Jasmine hadn’t come back yet and she’d be home towards the end of the month and that’s why Harry hadn’t said anything.

With that mindset, I figured I could surprise Harry with something nice and be the one to take initiative. Planning a date rather than sitting around and waiting to hear back from him seemed like a more productive use of my time.

I looked into my dresser and tugged out a nice pair of lingerie that I’d been saving for a special night instead of using at the club. It was black and lacy with a pair of stockings, much more modest than anything I’d worn during work, but it wasn’t meant to be about showing skin. He’d already seen my body, multiple times now. I wanted tonight to be about looking good for myself and for him, something that held more meaning than stripping down to nothing.

Once I was dressed with a slim black dress over top of my undergarments and my bag was packed, I stopped to pick up a bottle of champagne and some groceries to prepare a meal, then caught a cab to his place. I was nervous for various reasons, but the main of which being I had no idea if this would potentially be the last night I’d be able to be with him fully. I would try to enjoy it as much as I could, but it was going to be hard to forget about that fact.

The blue building came into view and I tipped the driver before stepping out onto the sidewalk.

“Miss Beaumont, you’re looking stunning this evening,” Bernard greeted me as I approached the door.

I smiled and tucked the loose curls back behind my ear, chuckling as I looked down at my outfit. “Why thank you. Tonight’s kind of a special night.”

“Is that so?” He asked with raised brows, teasing grin coming to his face. “You behave, Miss Beaumont.”

“I will try my best, but I make no guarantees,” I replied, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading inside.

The 10th floor seemed deserted and I assumed that meant Harry was at work, which gave me a chance to set things up before Harry got home. Using the key in the plant, I headed inside and set my things on the counter and got to work. I knew I wasn’t the best cook in the world, but I did know how to make a pretty great vegetarian lasagna that would knock his socks off. I set up some music to play on the stereo system and allowed the champagne to chill in the fridge as I cooked, humming along to the melodies.

It took about two hours for everything to be done and just as I was pulling the food out of the oven when I heard the sound of the door opening. My face lit up and I set the oven mitts aside, pulling off the apron so I could actually look appealing when Harry first saw me.

“Why does it smell like someone’s been cooking?”

My heart stopped when I heard her voice. I could’ve sworn that I felt a rock settle into my stomach as I searched for a way to get out of this situation, but there wasn’t. The floor plan was so open that they would’ve seen me if I tried to leave the kitchen. I stood there with my heart racing, awaiting the inevitable confrontation with my hands gripping onto the handle of the oven.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?”

Swallowing hard, I tried to force a smile to my face as I turned around to face towards them. The color was drained from Harry’s face as he saw me standing there and Jasmine looked about ready to jump across the table if I were to make any sudden moves, so I stayed put.

“Aren’t you the girl from the diner?” she asked, eyes narrowed as she looked me up and down. “Answer my question or I’m going to call the police.”

“I… came to deliver a meal for you two,” I said slowly. I hoped the explanation would be satisfying enough, but I could see that Jasmine was still skeptical. “Your husband wanted to make it as special as he could.”

I didn’t wait to see if she believed me. Instead I gathered up my bag of things and shrugged it onto my shoulder, heading quickly towards the door. “I’ll be out of your hair now. Have a great night and enjoy your meal.”

Quickly, I made my way into the hall and rushed towards the elevators. I was so stupid to think that I could pull something like this and be able to get away with it. My chest felt tight and all I wanted to do was hide away in my bed and pretend it was all a terrible dream.

“Mikayla, wait!” Harry called after me, but I didn’t turn around. I pressed on the down button repeatedly, hoping it would speed up the process despite knowing better.

The doors began to open and I slipped inside, holding down on the door closed button to force them closed just before Harry had reached the elevator. As soon as the doors were closed, tears began to spill down my cheeks, smearing the makeup that I’d been wearing. At this point, I didn’t care though. The sooner I got out of there, the better.

I stumbled out of the elevator and towards the door, but Harry must’ve rushed down the stairs to catch up to me because before I could slip out into the street, his hand was around my wrist and stopping me from leaving.

“Mikayla, please listen to me,” he heaved, breathing heavy, but I shook my head, not wanting to look at him.

“No. Let me go.”

“Mikayla, please,” he begged, gripping onto my shoulders so he could turn me towards him. “I was gonna tell you, but--”

“Tell me what? That she was back? How long has she been back, Harry?” I asked, voice harsh.

I noticed the way he tensed at that question. Even though he paused in answering, that was all I really needed to know. “It’s been a few weeks…”

“A few weeks? A few… okay. Okay.” I pulled out of his grasp, stepping away. “What happened to ‘I’m going to leave her’? You told me you were going to tell her when she got back!”

“Mikayla, I--”

“No. You lied to me,” I interrupted him, jaw clenched as I tried to keep myself composed long enough to speak. Voice on the verge of breaking as I spoke, it took everything in me to hold back a sob that threatened to rip its way out of my chest. “You made your choice, Harry.”

I knew I had to be strong, to show that I didn’t need him and that wasn’t going to play second-best, but the truth was that in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to pull the tearful man before me into my arms and forgive him for everything. He didn’t deserve it though. Neither did I, and I knew that. I didn’t deserve to have a happy ending when I was willing to break up a marriage to get what I wanted, even if it was an unhappy one. This was what I got for putting myself in this situation in the first place.

"Please don't go," he pleaded, voice cracking. Throughout our relationship -- if you could really even call it that -- I'd never seen him this emotional, over anything. Yet there I was, staring at a broken man whose facade had finally fallen, and I didn't know what else to do.

So I ran.

Turning on my heels, I rushed from the lobby out onto the sidewalk before he could stop me from going anywhere. I kept running, the sound of my shoes slapping against the pavement as I went. I didn’t know where I was running to, but I knew that I needed to get away as quickly as I could.

I felt foolish for believing I could be anything to anybody, but especially to him. He had used me and I had let him, praying like a doe-eyed schoolgirl that we could be something more but that was never his intention. He’d gotten what he wanted from me and now I was left with nothing but a broken heart and a mound of guilt to bury myself under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate meeeeeee! It had to be done. What did you think? Were you expecting it to happen this way or were you expecting something else? What do you think's going to happen now that Jasmine knows something is going on between Harry and Mikayla?


	15. 20 Years

My chest hurt. Whether it was from running most of the way back home or the heaviness in my heart, I wasn't sure. I'd run out of tears somewhere around the midway point across the bridge, but I'm sure if I could have continued, I would have.

I didn't know what I had expected, but it wasn't that. I thought that things would be okay, that Harry would stick to his word and leave Jasmine, that maybe I wasn't a complete lunatic for thinking I'd get something good in my life without having to work for it. That was all wishful thinking brought on by the thoughts Gemma planted in my head during our trip. She seemed so sure and she knew Harry better than anyone, so I trusted her. I was stupid to trust her. I was stupid to trust anyone for that matter.

I stumbled into the apartment complex, breathing ragged and eyes bloodshot. I probably looked a wreck or as if I’d been mugged on the way home, which would explain why Mike ran out from his office with a stunned look on his face.

"Are you okay?" His voice was frantic and he came over to help me stand up straight because I was about ready to collapse right there, my legs burning with the fire that had previously kept me running as far from Manhattan as I could get.

"Not really," I responded, my voice harsh and grating against my raw throat. "I need my mom."

"She just got in a little while ago. You need help getting up there?"

I only nodded because talking required too much work and I didn't have it in me to turn him away. I was a child again, needing my mother to help kiss my pain away and assure me of the good things that I offered to the world, but I knew that they’d all be lies. There was nothing good about me at this rate. I used to have my willpower to my name, but now I didn’t even have that. I was an accessory to adultery and there was nothing that could redeem that in myself. Not to me, anyway.

Mike helped me up the few flights of stairs to the correct floor. He had never seen me like this before and I’m sure he had a million questions to ask, but he didn’t ask them. He was always respectful like that. We had been faithful tenants, living in this apartment for as long as I could remember, so he knew that our lives weren’t exactly the most stable. Maybe he assumed I’d been selling myself on the streets to make extra income and it had gone sour. Judging by the clothing I was wearing, I wouldn’t blame him for thinking it.

“Here we go,” he said softly, carefully unwrapping my arm from around his shoulders and looking at me with a concerned gaze. “You sure you’re alright? I don’t have to call the cops or anything, right?”

“No, I’m fine,” I assured him, swallowing hard in a vain attempt at coating my throat so it wouldn’t hurt anymore. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” A frown took over his lips, but he made his way back towards the staircase and down to the main level.

In the meantime, I grabbed my keys from my bag and, with a shaky hand, slipped it into the lock and headed inside. I barely made it a few steps inside before mom was around the corner.

“Mikayla, I--oh my God, what happened?!” she exclaimed, quickly rushing towards me.

Seeing her worry over me, all I wanted to do was curl up in her lap and cry. It wasn’t like I had anything to hide anymore. Harry and I, for whatever it was that we had in the short time we were considered together, it was over now. I knew mom would find out if I didn’t tell her. She always had a habit of being able to read me and I was surprised she hadn’t figured it out beforehand.

“Harry and I are over.” Just that phrase managed to force a whole new batch of tears to begin tumbling down my cheeks, my shoulders shaking.

“Harr…” Her voice faded, almost as if she couldn’t remember who I was talking about. I’d only spoken of him once or twice, so I couldn’t blame her for not making the connection right away, but with how upset I was, she seemed to piece it together quickly enough to pull me into a tight embrace. “Oh, monkey. I’m so sorry.”

I held onto her for dear life. My face was buried in her shoulder and we stood there for many moments, her hand caressing my back and allowing me to calm down some before she spoke again.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” she asked quietly, unsure.

Did I? I knew that she’d find out eventually, so it’d probably be better if I told her first hand.

I pulled from her embrace as I stood up straighter, wiping away at my face with the back of my hand. She took my free hand and led me towards the couch where we both sat, her hand still rubbing circles against my back. She’d always done this when I was a kid and it helped to soothe me enough to get me to a point of being able to communicate without hiccuping over my sobs.

“I… I went to surprise him. I thought maybe I could be romantic and step out of my comfort zone for once," I began, sniffling and eyes still downcast towards our hands. I couldn't stand to look at her, not once I explained everything. "I made dinner, I bought champagne... I even got all dressed up." A brief and pitiful laugh left me and I shook my head, swallowing hard. "Only to find out that his wife had been back in town for a few weeks and he had yet to leave her like he said he was going to."

"Wife?" Here we go. "You never told me he had a wife, Mikayla."

"What was I supposed to say, mom? That the guy I'm--" I paused. " _Was_ interested in made me believe he was stuck in a loveless marriage so I'd fall for him and make a mess of everything?" I asked, my breathing ragged though I tried to take in a deep one to keep myself from bursting into tears again. "He used me, just like I thought he would, and I still let him do it."

There was silence save for the noises that left me -- a mix of sniffling, labored breathing, and the anxious tap of my heel against the floor -- as I awaited any sort of response from her. I still couldn't look up because I knew by the way it was taking her so long to say anything that she was disappointed in me. Hell, I was disappointed in myself, why would I expect anything less from her?

"I wish you had told me sooner. I would've told you to stop seeing him immediately," she finally spoke.

I shook my head, brushing my bangs back behind my ear. "Not like it would've made much difference. Everyone else had said I shouldn't and I did it anyway."

"You've always been headstrong... Reminds me of myself when I was younger."

I could tell that she was distracted by something, but I didn't want to ask what it was. I wanted to be selfish for a little while longer, to allow myself to wallow in my own stupidity for a few more moments before I forced myself back into the emotionless void I'd kept myself locked away in before Harry came along. I never let people close and the one time I do, it backfires.

I felt a kiss pressed to my temple and I looked over to see a sad smile on my mom's face as she gave my hand a squeeze. "Go get cleaned up. I'll make your favorite and we'll watch silly movies until you feel better, okay?"

I didn't know what to say so I only nodded, making my way from the living room and into my bedroom. The sooner I got out of this get up, the faster I'd be able to forget tonight ever happened. At least that's what I had hoped, but I could hear the violent vibrations of my phone in my bag going off every few seconds.

I knew who it was. As much as I wanted to hear his voice, I didn't want his excuses. I didn't want more empty promises. That wasn't something I could handle after that embarrassing moment in his apartment.

I ripped my phone out of my bag and shut it off, tossing it onto the bed. I kicked off my heels and was about to grab out the clothes I'd packed away for the night to change into after my shower when I noticed something odd. There was an envelope tossed on my bed, near where my silent phone sat.

With brows furrowed, I made my way towards it, picking it up to examine the piece of paper. There was no address on it, only my name and a note scrawled out beneath it that read: 

" _For when you're ready to know the truth._ "

If that wasn't ominous enough, I didn't recognize the handwriting. It wasn't overly fancy, but it was penned out in such an unhurried script that it seemed too elegant to be spelling out my name. Where had it come from?

Glancing down, I noticed the pocket of my bag where my phone had previously occupied seemed like it had been disturbed. Whether it had been in my attempt at quickly removing the mobile device or some other time, I wasn't sure. Part of me wondered if maybe it had been tucked away in there, but when? And who wrote it?

I was nervous to find out the answer to my many questions. It wasn't like Jasmine could have stuck something in my bag in the less than two minute interaction we'd had, the handwriting didn't match Harry's, and I'd used a different bag altogether when I went to the UK. That narrowed down the options significantly. I took a seat on the edge of the bed and, with envelope flipped over, I slid my finger beneath the flap and opened it.

Inside were a few sheets of paper, folded so they'd fit neatly into the package. A photograph slipped out onto my lap as I opened them up and I halted in seeing who my mystery sender was to examine it. Inside the polaroid frame was the image of a young man with slick dark hair and laugh lines painted across his face, brown eyes crinkled at the edges as he beamed towards the camera. Beside him was a woman who bore a striking resemblance to my mother, only much younger and far less stress etched into her features. As I looked at the image further, taking in the image of this man and trying to place him since I couldn't recall a time in my life when I'd met anyone like him, my heart stopped at the sudden realization of who he was.

The man in the picture was my father.

I practically tore open the papers in front of me and began to read the printed letters. For the longest time, I had wondered what'd become of my father. Despite the resentment I held for the man for disappearing out of my life when my mom needed him most, I wanted to know if he was still out there somewhere. I wanted to know if there would be a time I could ever ask him why he decided I wasn't good enough to stay around for. I wanted to know why.

> " _Dear Mikayla,_
> 
> _You're probably wondering why it is that I've taken so long to write to you. The truth is that I have no real answers to give you that you would willingly believe immediately. After all, why would you when we've never had the chance to speak to one another? My only hope is that you will take this in with an open mind, and that perhaps you'd be willing to allow me to explain further in person. I've dreamed of a moment like this, where I would be able to tell you my side, as I'm sure you've only ever been told your mother's version of events. That's not to say that hers is false, but there are always two sides to every story. Isn't that right?_
> 
> _I was 17 when I first met your mother. I was enrolled as a business student at Columbia University and had received an internship at a company that I'd been striving towards for months and to say that I felt invincible would be an understatement. I was coming from a town outside of Boston where not much happened, so New York City was like a whole new world to me._
> 
> _I met Penelope on my first night in town. I stayed at the hotel she was working at at the time and we hit it off like I'd never done with anyone before. Even when I'd moved from the hotel into my official dormitory, I would frequently stop in to visit her while she was working. I'd never fallen so fast before and I can't say that it's happened since, either._
> 
> _We shared many nights together, but then she disappeared. She no longer showed up to the hotel and I later found out that she had quit her job there. I couldn't find her and all I had was a name, which was no help seeing as I later found out she was only 15 at the time, so she wouldn't be listed in phone books. It took me years before I found her again and when I called the number, you answered._
> 
> _I hadn't been expecting it, but I knew that with how the timeline played out, you were mine. I wanted to talk to you, but she ended the call before I could. I tried so hard to get in contact with her so that I could help in any way that I could, but she wanted nothing to do with me. I've sent letters addressed to the both of you, but I'm not sure if you've received them. Maybe you want nothing to do with me either, in which case, I would understand._
> 
> _From what I've heard, you've grown into an incredibly intelligent and beautiful young woman. I have no doubts in my mind about that, especially if you take after Penelope. I'd love to see you and be able to learn more about you. Enclosed is my phone number, email and home addresses. Feel free to contact me any way you see fit._
> 
> _I hope to hear from you soon, Mikayla._
> 
> _\- Chester Hartley._ "

I sat there with the letter tightly grasped in my fingers, staring at the words as they began to go out of focus. As much as the letter had answered some of my questions, it brought about entirely new ones that were just as big as the others. Did my mom lie about her age? Had he not known about my mom being pregnant with me by the time they lost contact? Why did mom keep him from talking to me if he wanted to be there?

All of this time, I'd believed that my father had wanted nothing to do with me only to find out that the reason he wasn't in my life was because my mother prevented him from being a part of it. I was a mix of confused and disgruntled. What was I missing?

Standing, I made a direct line for the kitchen where I could hear mom moving around inside, standing in the doorway with letter and photo clutched in my grasp. She looked up when she noticed me and seemed confused as she looked me over.

"Aren't you going to change, monkey? I thought you were taking a shower."

"Care to explain this?" Completely disregarding her question, I held up the polaroid and watched as the color drained from her face at the sight of it.

"Mikayla, where did you get that?" She asked, voice low.

"Does it matter?" I bit back, brows still knitted together. "What happened between you and my dad?"

"I've told you a hundred times wha--"

"No!" I interrupted, shoving the letter into her hands and pointing at it. "Tell me what _really_ happened."

I watched her skim quickly over the words on the paper, looking distraught and at a loss for words. I could feel my blood beginning to boil the longer she stayed silent. This decision affect my life as much as it did hers. I deserved to know what really went down between the two of them that left me fatherless for over twenty years of my life.

"You don't understand..." She finally spoke after many moments of silence.

"Then explain it to me, mother." My voice was cold, almost distant. "What don't I understand?"

"If your grandmother had found out about him, you have no idea what would have happened to me. I had to tell her I was assaulted on the way home from work so she wouldn't kick me out of the house for being with a man before marriage," she explained, but the explanation was no better. My anger still grew and it took everything in me not to tear the papers from her hand, instead tugging at them so she would release them.

"So instead of admitting you had sex before marriage, you ruined not only your life, but mine too?"

"It was for the best for both of us, Mikayla! I wasn't going to give you up and I sure as hell wasn't going to have you on the streets. I did what I thought would be the right thing. I couldn't tell you when you were younger because you wouldn't have understood, but I couldn't let him back into our lives after what I had told her. It would have ruined everything. We were stupid teenagers, what would he have been able to provide for us anyway?"

My jaw was clenched and I stared at her for a moment, angry tears on the verge of spilling from my eyes at a moment's notice. "It's been 21 years and you didn't think it would be important to tell me any of this? You thought that lying to me, making me believe for 21 years that he wanted nothing to do with me, would somehow benefit me in the long run? Do you know what sort of self-esteem issues that creates in someone from a young age? Everything that I think about myself, every negative thing I could possibly think of, stems back to the idea that not even my own flesh and blood wanted anything to do with me and now you’re telling me that that’s all been a lie? That I could’ve had a father growing up had you not… not been so fucking _selfish_ to keep him away from me?!"

"I thought you would be better off not knowing the truth.” She gulped, frown coming to her face as she watched me.

She took a step forward to take hold of my hands, but I pulled away, clutching the letter to my chest. Her touch hurt, burned like the fire seething inside my chest right now. I felt betrayed. My mom -- the person I had done everything in my power to protect and fight for -- had been keeping secrets from me my whole life.

“How many letters did he send?” I asked. “Where did you put them?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed, bringing her fingers up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “I tossed them into a box in my room, in case maybe one day they would come in handy. I didn’t want you to read them.”

"That wasn't your decision to make."

Stalking out of the kitchen, I made my way back to her room and began searching. I wanted to see the letters, I wanted to read what he’d been trying to say to me for so many years. I didn’t know where I would find them, but I was determined. I knew nothing about this man, but for years he wanted to know about me and that was more than enough for me to want to reach out to him.

I was ignoring the calls of my name from my mother as I searched through her things, not bothering to be careful with where they were discarded. Had this been any other time, I would’ve treated her things with care and respect, but I was upset. Maybe even irrationally so, but with very good reason. Everything was happening all at once and it was too much for me to handle without blowing up. Dory was getting ready for the beginning of the semester, Daphne was gone, Harry was out of the picture, and there was no way I was running to the club on this state.

I couldn't trust anyone, not even my own mother.

The box was stashed away inside of her dresser, an almost overflowing pile of old, yellowing envelopes sticking out from the edges. With the box in hand, I rushed to my room once more and closed the door, locking it when I heard her footsteps following behind me. She pleaded with me through the door to hear her out, but I ignored her as I shoved whatever I could into my bag, including my phone.

I needed to get away as quickly as I could, but to where I wasn't sure. I had so few options now that I didn't know if any of them would work out in my favor. I knew I had to try though. I couldn’t stay here.

I opened up my window and slipped out onto the fire escape, bag thrown over my shoulder as I made my way out and down. It took some careful maneuvering, but I managed to make my way down without much of a struggle, and before anybody could stop me, I was off into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're officially halfway through the story! This is amazing, you guys. I never thought I'd actually have the stamina to write out this whole thing, but I'm gonna keep on trucking and hopefully you'll stick with me through the whole thing.
> 
> I want to apologize for the late update. I've had a few of those lately, but this week's was for a different reason. I was at the beach with my family Monday through Wednesday, but the very first day I had a severe reaction to the sun where my skin became red and swollen. I found out that I have photosensitivity, which is essentially like being allergic to the sun. It's really painful and I'm still recovering from it, but I'm starting to mend now. I wanted to give myself time to rest and relax before I finished up this chapter because the pain's been a nightmare, so thank you for being patient with me always.
> 
> How do you think the letter got into Mikayla's things? Any theories on that?
> 
> Hopefully you guys enjoyed and let me know what you think might happen next!


	16. The State of Dreaming

“You know what I’ve always wanted to do?”

“What’s that, love?” His voice was soft, hardly above a whisper. I could feel the warmth of it ghost across my cheek as he looked down towards where I lay with hair sprawled out across the pillows, his finger absentmindedly curling around a few locks of hair. He’d propped himself up onto his side with his elbow so he could face me more easily and it gave a picturesque view of the swallows that adorned his pecs.

“I’ve always wanted to go to the beach,” I responded, eyeing him to see his response. Most people seemed floored when I told them that I’d never been, and his inquisitive stare was no surprise.

“You’ve never been to the beach before? Ever?”

“Never.” I shook my head, settling back against the pillows once more. His fingers stopped their toying with my hair long enough to tuck some behind my ear and I could feel the palm of his hand resting on the back of my neck as he sent an impish grin in my direction.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” he began, bringing his face in closer to my own to steal a kiss from me -- though I suppose it’s not stolen when it’s given freely, is it? And God was it given. “I’ll take you. Some day.”

“Some day is a very vague way of telling time, Harry,” I teased, prodding his bare chest with my pointer finger. My hand gripped onto the white sheets that covered our bodies and I curled my arm in towards my chest, leaning forward to face him easier. “But you’ll really take me?”

“I know it’s not, but I haven’t got my calendar right in front of me, Mikayla,” he joked back with a soft chuckle, then nodding in response to my next question. “I will. I promise. We’ll get really bad tans and drink lots of those fruity cocktails with the tiny umbrellas.”

“Can we swim with dolphins too? I love dolphins.”

“Dolphins? Well, now that’s pushing it.” He smirked, brushing the tip of his nose against my own. “Of course we can. Anything you want.”

I smiled faintly, admiring the beauty in his movements. The softness in his face, the way the curls hung loosely and messily around his fair skin, the creased lines bookending his smile -- all of the things I’d grown to love already, but in this moment they seemed magnified. Maybe it was the proximity, maybe it was the fact that there was nothing else to distract from it, or maybe it was that I’d finally allowed myself to full fall into love with him that made them stand out significantly more than I had before when I tried to resist him.

He talked like we had a future. He seemed so certain.

I opened my eyes to find myself in the queen-sized bed I’d somehow managed to fall asleep in the previous night. After I’d left home, I wasn’t sure where to go, but I eventually stumbled onto Olivia’s doorstep late at night and she welcomed me with open arms. I didn’t explain what was wrong at the time and she didn’t pry either, which is what I needed. I still hadn’t fully processed everything that had happened at that point, but as I laid there in the still of the morning, I couldn’t help but run through the events in my head.

What stirred me from where I lay was the sound of the door creaking open and hushed voices on the other side, bringing my attention towards it to see the back of Eden’s head as she assured her mother that she was only checking to see if I was okay or not. I couldn’t help but smile faintly at the gesture, especially when she looked in and noticed me watching her, eyes going wide and the door quickly closing behind her with a loud thwack against the door frame.

“She’s definitely awake now.”

I let out a soft laugh -- probably the first one in the past two days -- and sat myself up, glancing into the mirror that hung on the wall across the way. I hadn’t had the energy to do much last night when I’d gotten in, so I could see hints of mascara still smudged beneath my eyes though most of it had either been cried off or rubbed away in my sleep.

Brushing my hands quickly beneath my eyes, I slipped out of bed and tugged the shoulder of my sleep shirt back on properly as it had slipped down over one while I was asleep, making my way out of the guest room. I was met with the sounds of cartoons playing quietly from the tv in the living room and saw Eden propped up on her knees in her chair at the table in the kitchen, a spoonful of cereal hovering in front of her mouth while she paid more attention to the distraction than the task at hand.

I noticed that Olivia had been making her way around the kitchen carefully, I assumed trying not to make a lot of noise so I wouldn’t be disturbed, but she noticed me and sent a sympathetic smile in my direction.

“I’m sorry if she woke you. I tried not to let her inside, but she didn’t believe that you were actually in there,” Olivia explained.

“I guess she was asleep when I came in, wasn’t she?” I smiled and waved my hand dismissively, making my way over towards the counter and leaning against it. “It’s okay, I was up.”

I could see the tension in Olivia’s shoulders melt away slowly and she wiped her hands dry with a dry cloth hanging from the oven handle. “Did you get any sleep?”

“A little,” I began, giving a shrug. I wasn’t sure what time I had actually managed to fall asleep, but I knew that I had because the dream was still so vivid in my head that it had nearly brought me back to the night it happened. “Thank you for letting me crash here.”

“You know you’re always welcome here, lolita,” she replied, leaning over to rub my arm and give it a comforting squeeze. “Did you want something to eat? I wasn’t sure what you liked, but we have some cereal, fruit… I could make some eggs?”

“You don’t have to go through all that trouble for me, it’s okay. I’ll do cereal,” I assured her and made my way to the cabinet, looking over the selection before settling on Frosted Flakes.

I hated that I’d already put her out in having to house me for the night, so I wasn’t going to force her to make me anything despite the hollow feeling in my stomach. I hadn’t eaten since lunch time yesterday, never getting around to eating dinner between everything that had happened with Harry and my mom.

We were all situated around the table with food in front of us by the time Olivia spoke up again. “Did you… want to talk about what happened yesterday?”

I hadn’t expected anything less, but part of me was hoping that we could wait until later in the day to bring it up, when I’d had some more time to think about it on my own. I couldn’t blame her for asking though. With the state I was in when I showed up here, especially with as late as it was when I’d arrived, she was no doubt concerned for my well being. After breaking down on her a few weeks prior, part of me wondered if she assumed my life was always this dramatic and I was starting to believe it myself.

“It’s complicated,” I began, trying to remain as lighthearted as possible for the moment with a small shrug. I fixated on the contents of my bowl, as if suddenly the way the milk soaked through the cereal pieces was the most intriguing thing I’d ever seen, trying to figure out where to start. “I guess… everything I thought I had control over in my life decided to remind me that I’m nothing more than a pawn in life’s game of chess.”

“Right…” She trailed off, swallowing her food. “Now do you want to give me the version that doesn’t involve melodramatic metaphors?”

“You were right. About Harry.” Swallowing hard, I picked my gaze up and looked over towards her, my lips a faint line across my face with no discernable emotion behind them. “I found out that his wife’s been back in town for weeks and he hadn’t bothered to tell me that or break things off with her. Guess he wanted to have us both while he could.”

There was silence between us for awhile. I could tell Olivia wasn’t sure how to respond to the news. She wasn’t the type to gloat or rub it in your face when she ended up being right. I could tell that being right in this situation didn’t bring her any sense of satisfaction either. To spare her from having to say anything, I figured I should move on and tell her about what happened with my mom. It was a new problem, something that her insight on might help me sort out where I stand.

“I also heard from my dad.”

There was a clatter as her spoon fell from her grasp, eyes wide as she looked at me in disbelief. “What?”

“Yeah,” I began, biting my lip. “I, uh… I found a letter in my things. I don’t know how or when it got there, but I read it and… It explains everything. I’m just not sure if I should believe it or not.”

“You believed it enough to where you ran from home,” she reminded me, brows furrowed. I waited for more, but it was clear she wanted to know more details about what the letter entailed before she gave her assessment on the situation.

“I don’t know. I hear next to nothing from him for 20 years and then out of nowhere I find out that he’s been trying to contact me? That my mom’s kept all these letters from him that he’s tried to send me so I wouldn’t see them? It’s… It’s a hard pill to swallow, I guess.” Stirring my spoon around the bowl, I took in a deep breath. "My mom basically confirmed everything he said when I confronted her. I trusted her and now... I don't know what to think."

"Did she say why she kept him away from you?" She asked quietly. "There has to be a legitimate reason for it."

"She said she didn't want him in my life, but that's all she really said," I replied, finally taking a bite of my now soggy breakfast.

"But no explanation?" Olivia frowned. "She's hid this from you for how long and she still won't give you a reason when you finally find out about it?"

"Apparently I'm not worth an explanation because I'm her daughter and she was doing what she thought would be best for me," I scoffed quietly, though my statement seemed to upset Olivia with the way her frown deepened.

"Maybe she genuinely believes that she was protecting you from something," she began. "If you don't have all the information, you can't say for sure she did it out of disdain for him or to purposefully hurt you, Mikayla."

I thought back to what little I knew about Eden's father and realized that maybe this situation was hitting a little too close to home for her. Taking in a deep breath, I let out a slow sigh and took another bite of my food while I tried figuring out what to say. I valued Olivia's input and having the perspective she did made me want to approach it differently. How to do that though, I wasn't sure.

"What should I do, Liv?" I asked, resigning to the knowledge that I didn't have all the answers. "Mom won't tell me what I want to know, but I have so many questions."

"Follow your heart. Nobody can tell you what would be best for you. You don't usually listen anyway." Her last comment was meant to be a light tease, but it was true. I was stubborn and I wanted what would benefit me, regardless of consequences. I'd shown that time and again, especially lately.

Swallowing hard, I looked over towards her. "He left his number... Should I talk to him?"

"I think that might be a step in the right direction," Olivia offered up with a smile. "Do you need to use my phone?"

I hadn't turned my phone on since yesterday. I was almost positive that when I did, I'd have a ton of missed calls and my inbox would be close to full. Did I want to subject myself to having to wade through all of that in order to make a phone call?"

"If you don't mind. I'm not ready to see what's been sent to mine," I admitted with a sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I have no idea what I'd say though."

"Well... It sounds to me like whatever needs to be talked about shouldn't be done over the phone," Olivia began, standing from the table with her empty bowl and setting it into the sink on the way to grab the phone. "Maybe you should suggest meeting in person."

She was right. I had so many things I wanted to know, too many questions for a phone call to suffice. It wouldn't do any of them justice. But I didn't know this man. What if it turned out that he was out of my life for a legitimate reason, like he's a sociopath or he's trying to scam me out of money that I don't have?

"Would you be able to go with me?" I asked, suddenly feeling small again.

I looked over as Olivia returned, handing me the phone, and judging by the look on her face, it didn't seem likely. "I'm supposed to take Eden to her grandmother's today since I'm going to work earlier tonight. Things have been tough filling in the gap that Daphne left."

I frowned at the mention of my friend. Still no word from her. I'd taken to skimming the newspaper every day, relieved when I wouldn't find any headlines referencing her. While not knowing where she was at all was terrifying, no news was better than bad news. 

"Do you need me to fill in? I could use more time out of the hou--"

"Nope. Call your father." Olivia's words were firm and I sighed, knowing she wasn't going to let me chicken out of this one.

I begrudgingly finished off my soggy cereal and rinsed out my dishes before I retreated to the guest room again, promising Eden that I'd play with her once I was finished to keep her from following along. I could feel the knots twisting in my stomach as I sifted through my bag to find the letter again and it was where I'd left it, cozied in with the dozen of others that I'd taken from mom's things. I had yet to read any of them, but I wasn't sure I'd be ready to either. Who knows what he would've written about all these years, and if all went well, he could tell me himself in person.

Dialing the number, I brought the phone to my ear and waited. The ringing carried on three times and I almost thought that I would have to leave a message when the other line was picked up, a male's voice responding on the other end.

"Hello?"

His voice wasn't what I had expected. Then again, I wasn't sure what I expected at all. It wasn't until yesterday when I saw the picture of my parents -- it felt so weird to say that -- that I even discovered what he looked like. That paired with an abundance of scenarios that I had played through my mind growing up about how this conversation would go, anything was possible.

I hesitated for a moment, prompting another "hello" to come through the phone before I found the courage to speak.

"Hi. Um, is this... Chester Hartley?" Nerves were keeping the letter grasped tightly in my fingers, bottom lip situated between my teeth.

"This is Chester Hartley speaking, yes. May I ask who's calling?"

"It's Mikayla," I began. "Mikayla Beaumont. Your daughter.."

There was silence on the other end followed closely by a relieved sigh. "I honestly wasn't sure if I would ever hear from you."

"I wasn't sure if I was going to call, if I'm being honest," I replied, faint smile traced over my lips. "I'm sorry it took me so long."

"You have nothing to apologize for," he responded quickly, reassuringly. "I'm just so glad you did."

The way he spoke made the nerves slowly dissipate. He seemed genuinely relieved that I'd reached out and that didn't seem like the type of thing a bad guy would do. I was still holding out judgement though for when we saw each other in person.

"I was, um... I was hoping that maybe we could talk? About things. About everything," I said, stumbling over my racing thoughts.

"We do have quite a bit of catching up to do, don't we?" He offered with a chuckle. "Where do you want to start?"

"I was actually thinking we could talk in person," I suggested, nibbling on my bottom lip again. "It might be easier that way."

"In person?" He seemed surprised. "Of course! Yeah, let's talk in person." There was some shuffling on his end and a pause in conversation. "I'm technically supposed to be working today, but I can cut out and play hookie around lunch time. Would that work?"

"I wouldn't want you getting in trouble with your boss just to see me," I replied with a small frown.

Before I could say anything else though, I heard another laugh on his end. "Don't worry. I am the boss. We can do lunch."

"You're... Wow." If I seemed impressed, it was because I was. My father was the boss of... Whatever it was he did and he was willing to cut out on his work day just to see me. This all seemed so surreal, like I was still dreaming. "Lunch sounds good. Where did you want to go?"

"My place. I won't make you spend money to see me," he explained. "I'll call Loretta and let her know we'll be dining in today."

"Loretta?"

"Oh, our private chef. I didn't want to sound pretentious in our first conversation, but I guess that's flown out the window now, huh?"

The boss and a private chef? What exactly did my dad do for a living? And our? Did that mean he had another family? One that I was in no way a part of? I felt myself growing anxious about everything again, but I tried pushing it down below the surface.

"T-that works for me, if you're okay with it."

"Of course I am! God, I've been waiting for this day for so long. I want it to be perfect."

My smile grew and for a moment I thought I felt that lightness in my chest that I had felt whenever I was with Harry -- whenever I knew I was truly happy.

"I can send a car for you too, so you don't have to take public transport. It would take forever."

"Oh, I'm not at home," I said quickly, not wanting him to send someone all the way out there. "I can give you the address of where I'm staying right now."

"That works, just go ahead and text it to me when you get the chance. Is there anything in particular you'd want on the menu?"

"As long as there are some vegetarian options, anything's fine with me," I said with a light laugh, hoping I didn't sound too demanding.

"Vegetarian? Learning new things already," he chuckled, the sound of scribbling out something onto paper filtering through the receiver. "I'll be sure Loretta knows. I can't wait to finally meet you after all these years."

"I can't either," I admitted, brushing some hair behind my ear. "I'll see you soon?"

"Yes you will," he replied confidently, causing another laugh to leave me.

We exchanged goodbyes and once I was off the phone, I sent him a text with Olivia's address in it. I hadn't been expecting him to be so... Cheerful and excited, but it sounded like he had been waiting and wondering about me for nearly as long as I had been about him. There was no telling what our lunch would bring about, but what I did know was that this was a new door opening for me. I needed to focus on that rather than the two that had closed, and I hoped that I would like what I saw on the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we'll be finding out more about Mikayla's dad! Are you excited to learn more about him and figure out how his letter got into her things? All will be revealed next week.
> 
> The chapter after next there'll be one told from Harry's point of view, so we'll get to learn more about everything from his side and see what's been going through his head.


	17. Dear Father

I wasn't sure why Chester insisted on sending a car out my way when I could've taken the subway, but when the jet black Rolls Royce pulled up along the curb, tinted windows and all, I couldn't help but feel incredibly intimidated by our impending meeting. Sure, I had changed into something a little more presentable than casual, but my options were limited seeing as I left most of my nice attire back at the apartment when I left in a hurry the night before. I'd settled on a pair of dark, faux leather pants and a short sleeved white button up blouse seemed the most appropriate. In the back of my mind was the thought that there wasn't much I could do to impress somebody who seemed to already have everything, but I tried not to think about it.

"Miss Beaumont?" A man in a dark suit left the car, rounding the front of the car and making his way over to me with a pleasant smile.

"That's me," I responded with a small smile of my own. "What's your name?"

"My name is Miles." He reached out his hand to take mine and we shook. "It's a pleasure to you, miss. I'll be escorting you to lunch with Mr. Hartley this afternoon. If you'll follow me, we'll be headed there now."

"You too. Of course." Nodding, I made my way over to the back door he was now holding open for me, slipping into the back seat and buckling myself in. I set my things in the empty seat beside me, waited for the man to return to his position, and watched as the car pulled off the curb.

"How do you know Mr. Hartley, miss? If you don't mind me asking, of course."

Should I be honest? How often did he talk about me to other people? Did anybody else know about me being his family? If his driver didn't already know about me, then maybe he hadn't mentioned me at all.

"Old family friend," I finally said with a faint smile, one he returned in the rearview mirror before he carried on driving

I was antsy throughout the entire drive, the driver not saying much throughout the journey. He asked me if I lived in the city and I explained that I had been staying with a friend, but the conversation was light after that. The drive took about half an hour and I noticed that the car was slowing to a stop the further along we went.

"We're here, Miss Beaumont."

I looked out the window and was met with the sight of a large skyscraper, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. The place was massive, to say the very least. It was the only way I could describe it because otherwise it looked exactly like most buildings in the NYC skyline.

I got out of the car with Miles' assistance and thanked him for taking the time to drive me and he assured me it was no trouble at all before leading me into the building. "Mr. Hartley lives in the penthouse on the top floor. He'll be awaiting your arrival."

"Thank you again, Miles. I'll see you again soon?"

"Hopefully so, miss." With a smile, he made his way back out to the car and I was left in the lobby with my bag and my nerves.

I made my way to the elevators and pressed the up arrow, waiting for one of them to make it down to the main level, all the while fidgeting with the buttons on my blouse. I'd waited so long for this moment and now, over twenty years later, I was about to be face to face with my biological father.

I had so many expectations of how this would play out after our phone conversation, but now I worried that none of them would be met , that I'd gotten myself excited over nothing and that I'd be left feeling like it wouldn't have mattered whether I'd met the man or not. I hoped that wouldn't be the case.

The elevator took me up to the top level at an almost achingly slow pace, but eventually the tone rang out and I was let out onto the proper floor. I stepped out into what looked like a fully furnished living room and wondered if I'd had the right floor when a small blonde rounded the corner.

She had an overly cheerful disposition, like a golden retriever, and she ushered me to follow along with her. I could only assume that I was in the right place.

She led me down a hallway that opened up into a spacious kitchen and dining area through to the balcony. The entire apartment was decorated with various art pieces and expensive furniture that I was certain could probably pay for my rent for the entire year. It all came together nicely and was pleasing to the eye, but there was something unsettling for me about standing around things that costs so much wearing clothes that cost so little.

The sliding glass doors were already opened wide and I could feel the humid air from outside as we got closer. It wasn't until we stepped beneath the awning that I saw him seated at a table with a coffee mug sat beside him.

"Mr. Hartley, Miss Beaumont has arrived," the blonde announced my presence and my throat went dry.

He looked up from his newspaper and that gave me my first real look at him, a chance to take him in. He didn't look much different from the image, though instead of a full head of jet black hair, a few silver streaks peaked through along the sides. He wasn't old by any means -- maybe late 30s or early 40s at most -- so I could only assume stress was the culprit. He wore business attire, but the jacket of his suit hung over the back of his seat, so I assumed he'd returned from work shortly before I arrived. He had slight wrinkles around his eyes and prominent laugh lines that were hidden by salt-and-pepper stubble as he beamed, standing from his seat and setting the paper aside.

"Wow," he began, slowly approaching and giving me a once over. "You look just like your mother."

"I get that a lot," I replied, offering up a nervous smile and tucking some hair back behind my ear.

"It's true. Almost a spitting image of her when she was younger, though you've got my hair it seems," he chuckled. "Suits you better."

We stood there in silence for a few moments as we took in the other's presence, trying to get in as many details as we could. I noticed the familiar color of his eyes, a shade of green similar to Harry's, and it took me aback. I had to keep myself from focusing too long on them. It was only after that time that he held his arms open, a hopeful look on his face.

I hesitated at first. I barely knew the man standing before me, yet we held so much in common through blood that I should. I should've known him and I could've known him had I not been sheltered from him.

I stepped into him and my arms moved around his torso, chin resting on his shoulder through the embrace. He wasn't much taller than I was, only a couple of inches, but it was enough to where his hug felt big and warm. It was just what I needed and I melted into it, closing my eyes to take in the moment.

"I can't believe you're really here," I heard him mumble. It was soft, like he was speaking to himself rather than to me, and I smiled slowly at the idea that he was in as much disbelief as I was about everything that had happened today.

With one last squeeze, the hug ended and he brought me towards the table, pulling my chair out for me. I took my seat and thanked him, watching him settle across the table. "Can Loretta get you anything to drink? Water, tea, coffee, I think we may have some fruit juices--"

"Water's fine," I spoke quickly, not wanting him to carry on and waste his breath.

With a call into the kitchen, the blonde returned with that same beaming expression, looking between the two of us. "What can I get for you, miss?"

"Water please?" I repeated. Before I had finished my request, she was already off into the penthouse to fulfill it. "Must be nice."

"Hmm?" He'd finished sipping his coffee right when I'd spoken, not enough time to swallow and answer. "What is?"

"Having someone to do things for you," I replied, giving a small shrug when I looked out across the city. The view from the balcony was lovely, reminding me of the potential this city had to offer. "How long has she worked for you?"

"It is, but it comes with a hefty price tag," he admitted, soft chuckle falling from him. "For about 5 years now. Loretta's services have been a cornerstone for us, especially after my wife passed."

I looked over to him, met with the view of his profile as he stared out the same way I had been. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," he responded, smiling towards me. "It was an unexpected tragedy, but she's still around in some ways. I see her most in my daughter."

He had another daughter. Suddenly, I was no longer an only child. Was she younger than me? What was she like? What if she doesn't like me? 

"Will I get to meet her?" I wondered aloud, biting my lip nervously.

"I believe you already have, if I'm not mistaken."

I had?

Loretta returned with my glass of water and I thanked her, watching her head back inside before turning my attention back to him. "How do you know if I've met her?"

"I was hoping she'd be able to join us for lunch, but I'm afraid she might not make it," he commented offhandedly as he looked at his watch. "Loretta, you can bring the food out if you'd like. We'll get started without her."

"Oh no you won't," another female voice carried out from the apartment, one I recognized almost immediately.

Shaina stepped out onto the balcony with a few shopping bags in her hands, setting them off to the side before walking towards Chester and kissing his cheek. "Hi, daddy. Sorry I'm late. I hope I didn't keep you too long."

"It's alright, sweetheart. We were just talking about you," he remarked, motioning across the table towards me. "Say hi."

She looked over to greet me with a big smile that faltered once she realized who exactly was seated at the table. "Mikayla, hi."

"Hi," I replied slowly. I was constantly questioning myself when it came to her reactions towards me, about whether or not I was projecting or if she genuinely responded in these ways, and now was another one of those times.

"You didn't tell me you were inviting her over today," Shaina said, her comment directed towards Chester.

"It was all very last minute," he replied with a wave of his hand. "Sit. I'm starving and whatever Loretta was making in there smelled incredible."

Shaina sat beside me, giving me a faint and almost forced smile. I tried to ignore it, but it was hard. I'd just learned this girl who randomly showed up in my life was my half sister and now all of a sudden, she was acting colder towards me than she had before. Had something changed?

"Can I ask you something?" I piped up, catching both of their attention.

"Anything," Chester replied, curious look on his face.

"How did you get that letter into my things?"

"Shaina was spending the night with a friend... Adora I believe it was, right?"

"Dory," we both corrected, looking towards each other before looking away again.

"Yes, Dory. Sweet girl. She was spending the night there when she called me to tell me that a friend she'd been told about was the Mikayla that I had been looking to talk to for awhile now," he began. "I wasn't sure how she knew, but I emailed her a copy of a letter I'd been hoping to give you myself some day as well as that picture. She printed it and put it into your things that night. It was so long ago, I was beginning to wonder if maybe you weren't the right girl after all."

Now her behavior the few times I’d seen her made sense. The way she'd look at me during the sleepover, she knew who I was in relation to her. Then there was the day she saved me from getting hit by that car. I was right to think she’d been following me, but the intentions behind it were different from what I’d originally thought; she'd been checking in on me to see if I'd read the letter.

“Thank you,” I began, looking over to Shaina again and offering up a small yet sincere smile. “For putting the letter in there.”

“Yeah.” Her reply was simple, quiet.

I didn’t have much time to think about it because soon enough Loretta was bringing the food out to the table. Soon enough, it was adorned with an assortment of fruits and vegetables, a pasta dish with a creamy pink sauce and bits of chicken cut up throughout, what looked like thin salmon sliced on top of mozzarella cheese and tomatoes all stacked atop toasted french bread, and so much more. My mouth began to water and I had no idea where to even begin, so I took a little bit of everything, not wanting to miss out on a free meal. It didn’t hurt that I hadn’t eaten in nearly 18 hours either, but that was besides the point.

Once we were all eating, Chester began to ask me about myself. I wondered what Shaina had told him about me from what she’d learned at the sleepover, but tried to play it safely. I could ask her later when we were alone.

“Well… I’m a waitress. I work at a diner down the road from my apartment,” I began, leaving out the part about working at the club. He didn’t need to know that if he already didn’t. “I graduated high school, but I haven’t pursued higher education yet. I hope to maybe go back some day in the future, but right now I haven’t got the money or the time for it. I’m 21 now, but my birthday’s in a couple weeks.”

“Your birthday? When is that? We’ll have to celebrate!” he exclaimed, giving a matter-of-fact nod as he continued to eat.

“It’s August 17th,” I replied. “But you don’t have to do anything special for it. I usually just do a small cake from the grocery store or ice cream and a movie.”

“Nonsense. It’ll be the first birthday that we’ll be able to share together, of course I would want to make it special for you.”

I had the feeling he’d only continue to insist if I attempted reasoning with him, so I nodded a little and gave in, trying to think of where to start next. I’d never been very good at talking about myself. “What else do you want to know?”

“Well, what are some things you like to do? Do you travel? Any significant relationships in your life I should know about?”

I caught Shaina curiously glancing at me from the corner of my eye at that last question and I bit my lip. She’d been there when I first mentioned Harry to the girls, but I don’t think she knew about how far we had gotten since then. Not that it mattered anymore.

“I like to write. I’ve been writing since I was in school. I’ve written a few short stories and I’ve been piecing together a novel, but haven’t had the time to focus on it,” I explained, twirling the pasta on my plate around my fork. “I recently took a trip to the UK with a…” What did I even call him now? We were never officially together, so I couldn’t say an ex boyfriend. He was an ex something though. A could have been.”An old friend, I guess. It’s complicated.” Shrugging, I looked up towards him. “But no, no significant relationships. Not anymore. Just me and mom.”

Chester nodded while I was talking and kept eye contact throughout the whole interaction, intent on picking up every word I had to say. It was flattering, but I wish I had more I could tell him. My life was so full of secrets at this point, I almost wondered if the person I was telling him about was really even me anymore.

“How is Penelope?”

The way he looked at me with hopeful eyes, I wondered what exactly it was that the two of them had. In his letter, he said he’d spent time trying to find her in the years following her disappearance from his life. Did he love her back then? Had he still loved her this whole time?

“She’s…” I trailed off, unsure of how to start. I hadn’t exactly left on the best terms with her last night. Regardless of the fact that she’d kept secrets from me, I had done the same with her. I didn’t want to slander her by any means. She was still my mother. “She’s okay. She works a lot. We both do, but she does more. Always has. She wanted to support me as best as she could on her own, but it got really hard when she--”

I stopped myself. Was it my place to tell him about mom being sick? She was better now, so maybe it didn’t matter as much.

Chester noticed my hesitation, brow raising. “When she what?”

“She was diagnosed with cancer when I was 16.” It took me a moment to compose myself, my gaze turned down towards my food. “She’s better now, but it hit us really hard when it happened, emotionally and financially.”

I looked up and Chester’s eyes had gone wide, his gaze staring off elsewhere while trying to process what I’d told him. “I’m so sorry, Mikayla. I wish I’d been there, I could’ve helped.”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” Never thought I’d ever say that. “She’s okay. We’re still trying to build up our savings again, but it’s tough.”

“Understandable. If you two ever need any help, please let me know,” he insisted.

“I will,” I responded, giving him a smile. Whatever had happened between them, he clearly still cared about her. It still left so many unanswered questions though. “Is it okay if I ask you questions?”

“Of course. Anything you want to know, ask away.”

“How did you meet Shaina’s mother?” I asked. I wanted the conversation to be light again, but I figured asking now about someone who had passed would be a lot easier to discuss now than bringing the conversation down later.

“I went down to Greenville, South Carolina, for a summer conference. I was 20, a young entrepreneur fresh out of my first adult job and trying to start up my own business. I never like to do too much business without a little fun, so I went to see a local play. Magdalena was one of the main cast and I’ll admit I fell head over heels on the spot. She was beautiful and incredibly talented, the stand out performer from the show.” He was smiling as he reminisced, looking over to Shaina as if noticing she’d been completely quiet the whole time. Reaching over, he took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “It was a bit of a whirlwind from there. We wrote letters back and forth over that summer, but I found out she was going to AMDA, so we weren’t long distance for a long time. Shaina came along not too long after that and we were married when Shaina was two. She was our only child, but she was the greatest gift for the both of us.”

“Sounds like you were all very close,” I remarked.

“We were,” Shaina finally spoke. “I miss her every day.”

“When did she pass?” I asked cautiously, looking between the two.

“Three years ago,” he began. I sensed the tension in Shaina’s body as he began to speak and she excused herself, heading into the apartment. We both watched her and I heard Chester sigh, pulling my attention back to him. “It’s hard for her to talk about it. Her mother was her best friend and losing her so suddenly…” He sighed. “Magda was coming home from a performance when it happened. She’d gotten her first big role in an off Broadway production. I was so proud of her. She left the theatre late and someone attempted to mug her. When she put up a fight, they shot her and took her belongings. She’d lost too much blood by the time they got her to the hospital.”

My heart broke for them as I listened to the story. I couldn’t imagine losing my mother, let alone in such an unexpected and sudden way. Taking in a deep breath, I swiped my hand beneath my watering eyes to catch a few stray tears that slipped from the corners.

“Shaina moved down to Greenville to live with her mother’s family for her last year of high school. I thought getting her away from the city would be best and allow her to grieve easier, but she’s thrown herself into her studies instead of working through the feelings that come along with it. I offered to pay for counseling, but she refused.”

“It must be really hard to deal with that all alone though,” I commented softly, glancing back inside, but Shaina was already out of sight.

“She was worried about me contacting you. When I first told her she had a sister, she was excited because she’d wanted one for so long, but as the months went past, she started to think I was attempting to replace our family with a new one,” he explained, wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin before setting it onto the table. “If she seemed distant at all today, that was probably why. I don’t know how to reassure her that it isn’t the case, but maybe you could have better luck.”

“I don’t know if I’d be the best person to talk to her about it,” I admitted. “I’m not the most encouraging person.”

“That’s alright. I figured perhaps you’d be able to relate, in some ways,” he reasoned, but he sent a smile across towards me. “Only if you feel comfortable, of course.”

Nodding, I returned the gesture. “Maybe another day, when she’s had some more time to process it.”

“Whenever is best for you.” Standing from the table, he grabbed his newspaper and suit jacket from the chair. “Do you have anywhere to be this evening? I’d love to talk more with you, I’m sure there’s plenty of other things you’re dying to know.”

“I don’t. I don’t even really know where I’m staying at this point, if I’m honest,” I said with an almost bittersweet laugh.

He raised his brows a bit in confusion, but didn’t pry. “If you need a place to stay, you’re always welcome here. I know it’s not incredibly close to home, but there’s plenty of room.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He smiled. “You’re family.”

I took in a deep breath. How long I’d been dreaming of hearing those words come from my father’s mouth, and here he was, repeating the words I’d longed to hear. It was only a temporary solution, I knew, but at least for now, I could cultivate a new home for myself here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! It's the end of the summer semester next week, so classwork's been crazy. It's also my birthday today, so I wasn't able to get this up before now because I was spending time with my family.
> 
> So, were you expecting Shaina to be the connection between the two? What did you think about the way she was acting throughout lunch? Do you think she's justified in feeling the way she does about this whole situation?
> 
> Next chapter will be in Harry's point of view, so we'll finally get the answers you guys have been waiting for in regards to what he's doing. Are you prepared? I know I'm not!
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading, voting, commenting, and adding my story to your reading lists. It means so much whenever I see notifications pop up and it honestly makes my day going through and seeing what you guys think.


	18. She is the Sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's POV.

“Hey… it’s me. Again. I know you’re upset with me, and honestly you’ve every right to be. It’s just gone midnight though, so I wanted to wish you a happy birthday. I sent you a gift as well, to your flat. I hope you got it. I hope you’ve gotten these as well. I know I’ve left quite a few by now.” An attempt at a lighthearted laugh followed my words, then a pause. My hand ran across the back of my neck the way I did when I got nervous. I wasn’t sure why. I’d spoken to her voicemail more times this week than I think I ever had anybody else’s in my whole life. I was surprised it wasn’t full yet, but it meant she was probably deleting my messages as I’d leave them. Letting out a sigh, I bit my lip and chose my next words carefully. “I miss you, Mikayla. Please talk to me. I want to sort this out… Please let me try and fix this.”

I swallowed around a lump in my throat and decided it was pointless to say anything more. She wouldn’t listen to the messages. She’d made it clear she wanted nothing to do with me when she left the flat that night I walked in on her with Jasmine by my side. The night I regretted more than anything. The night I wished I could take back.

Ending the call with a frustrated sigh, I tossed my phone onto the couch cushion beside me and rubbed my hands down my face. She wasn’t going to answer. I knew that. That didn’t stop me from calling and wishing she would, though.

I’m not sure how many times I had called by now. 30 times? 40? I’d lost count, but the numbers in parentheses by her name on my extensive and repetitive call list reminded me that it’d been upwards of 75 within the last three days alone. I didn't want to scroll and see how many it had been in the full week she'd been ignoring my calls. I’d crossed the threshold of being distressed, passed desperate, and shot straight for downright pitiful.

“Alright there, mate?”

I dragged my hands further down my face to uncover my eyes, hissing slightly as I came in contact with the bruise that had formed around my left eye. I looked up at Niall standing in the entrance to the living room, two paper plates topped with sausages and crisps in hand and a confused look on his face.

Once I’d gotten back up to the flat the night Mikayla left, I found Jasmine tossing my things out of the dresser drawers and onto the floor in a rage I’d never seen before. Of course I’d seen her angry before. It was a regular occurrence throughout the past year of our relationship, but she’d never gotten to the point of violently throwing things across the room like she had that night.

_“You cheated on me!” Jasmine shouted, face red with fury. “After everything I’ve done for you, you go off and fuck some trash from the ghetto?!”_

_Broken glass surrounded a picture frame that was strewn about the floor near my feet, a few drops of blood staining the carpet where it dripped from behind the hand covering my eyebrow, where the edge of the frame had made contact. I didn’t know how deep the gash went, but the force of the impact had been enough to break the skin and the blood felt slick against my palm, so I knew there must’ve been a decent amount pooling around my hand._

_The pain was sharp, stinging, and I had to blink away the hot tears that threatened to crop back up into my vision._

_“She's not trash, don't talk about her like that…”_

_“Don’t you fucking start, Harry.” Her words stopped me in my tracks. “You’re always making excuses for your shitty behavior. I’ve gone through so much to be with you, and this is how you repay me?”_

_“I'm always making shitty excuses? What exactly have you done, then?” I retorted without pause. “You’re always reminding me of what you’ve 'done for me' to get me to do what you think I should do, yet all I can think of is you supporting me through a tough spot **once** in my life, like you're supposed to do when you legitimately care about someone. But I suppose that'd be pushing the limits of what we have, wouldn't it? You don't care about me. You never have. It's always been about you.”_

_“Excuse me?” Jasmine’s brows furrowed. “I got you out of that piece of shit town, I sweet talked your manager into hiring you when you didn’t have a fucking leg to stand on, I gave you a roof over your head for years. Don’t tell me I didn’t do anything for y--”_

_“Would you stop it?!” I rarely raised my voice, especially not to Jasmine, but I’d had enough. I’d just lost the girl of my dreams only minutes before and now I had a bloody wound and was listening to the same victimizing horseshit I’d had to endure for the past couple of years. I was sick of it. “What if I had wanted to stay back in that piece of shit town, huh? That's my home, Jasmine. My family's there. My whole fucking life was there until you uprooted me from it. All you’ve done has make me feel like anything I’ve ever accomplished in my life hasn’t been because of anything I’ve done when I know for a fact that's not true, and you've gone and made me feel guilty for ever possibly questioning what you say.”_

_“That’s because without me, you would be nothing,” She responded, her words leaving in a low hiss._

_“Yeah?” I pulled the ring off my finger with ease -- an action I’d grown used to doing over the past couple of months -- and held it up so she could see it properly before I tossed it onto the ground at her feet. The blood from my wound had stained the metal, leaving a mark on the carpet. “You know what you’ve done for me, Jas? You’ve made me miserable. Fucking miserable to the point where I found myself drinking every night. To the point where I'd rather be caught in a strip club than be here with you. You tortured me into believing I'm not worth anything unless I’m your arm candy or unless I do whatever it is you want me to do. Why the hell do you think I came home so late, huh? ‘Cos I never wanted to come home to you when all we’d do is argue over whatever it was you decided to nitpick at on any given day. The more you acted like an outright cunt, the more you pushed me towards her."_

_I could see Jasmine wanting to respond, but I kept talking. Any time we argued, she would never allow me a word in edgewise, but tonight I wasn't going to be a pushover. I'd been her doormat for far too long._

_"I know you had your suspicions. You asked me about the glitter and the receipt you'd found from the diner. Did you always wonder in the back of your mind if I'd leave some day? Is that why you kept looking for clues? I lied to you about it because I still wasn't at a point where I thought that I could be anything other than what you'd drilled into my head, but that's changed now. For the first time in the past three years, I felt like I was cared about. I was able to be me and still be valued. I was happy and it was with her, not you. And I'd rather be nothing with her than a hollowed out somebody with you.”_

_She didn’t say anything for a long time, only stared down at the ring then up at me with a look of disgust. "Get out. Take your things and get the hell of my apartment."_

I'd found my way to Niall and Gemma's barely furnished apartment that night. They'd moved in about a week before and I'd been helping them to move in and get settled when I could, any excuse to get myself out of the flat. Now I was out forever with nowhere to go and with no one to help me except for them. I'd lost my home, my sense of security, and my living space all in the same afternoon.

Gemma was worried when she opened the door and saw me standing there with a blood-stained face and shirt, but I managed to convince her not to force me to the ER. Without Jas, I didn't have any insurance and I wasn't about to fork over a quarter of my savings for a few stitches. The free care back home was something I was going to start missing terribly. I was lucky in the sense that Niall had learned to do it throughout his days of playing football in a league back home. It may not have looked as professional, but he patched me up, I washed myself up, and I'd been moping on their couch ever since.

"You really wanna know the answer to that?" I replied, sighing.

"I'd be a pretty shite friend if I didn't," Niall remarked, taking his seat beside me and setting the food onto the coffee table once he'd brushed away a pile of my used tissues, popping a few crisps into his mouth. "Didn't think breakin' up with Jas would make you so upset."

"It's not her I'm upset over." 

My response pulled another confused look onto Niall's face. "I mean, she was a big part of your life, it wouldn't be outta the question."

I sighed, lightly rubbing my temple. "I lost Mikayla."

"Mikayla?" Niall repeated, looking even more confused than before. For how smart he could be, he wasn't very observant. "How did you..." The look of realisation that dawned on him after a moment forced his eyes to widen, looking at me like there was a stranger seated in my place. "Since when were you and her a thing?"

"You really never caught on?" I tried changing the subject, but Niall was having none of it.

"Since when, Harry?"

"Since your wedding night," I mumbled, slipping down further in my seat.

"Jesus Christ..." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Niall heaved a sigh. "C'mon, Harry! Couldn't even hold off until you'd gotten Jas outta the picture first?"

"I didn't know if I could leave her," I explained, though saying it out loud sounded worse than what I'd reasoned with myself. "Any time I would try and start pulling away, she'd reel me back in. Y'know how miserable she made me."

"That's still no excuse for it," he scolded. "Now you've not only lost Mikayla, but you've gone and hurt two people in the process 'cos you were only thinkin' about what _you_ wanted."

I wasn't used to this side of Niall. There'd been plenty of times in the past when he'd gotten on my case about being irresponsible with money or other minor things, but the look of disappointment written in his features was enough to make me want to sink into the floor and disappear for good.

I guess he had a point, though.

"I'm aware, thank you for that," I grumbled. My gaze remained on the plate of food that taunted me from the table, my appetite having disappeared along with my dignity. "I dunno how I can fix it though."

"You can't."

"Very encouraging, Niall, thanks so much." Glaring towards him, I shifted in my seat.

"Listen, Harry," he started, looking at me as he wiped crumbs off his hands. "I dunno what you want me to tell you. You fucked up. Big time. This isn't something that'll be fixed 'cos she's never gonna trust you again. Not fully, anyway."

"This is the only thing I've ever been dishonest about though--"

"It was the wrong thing to be dishonest about, you numbskull." Niall flicked my arm and I winced, brows furrowing in frustration towards him. "You made promises to her and you didn't keep 'em. That's all she's gonna see when she looks at you from now on. You can crumple up a piece of paper and flatten it out again, but it'll always be wrinkled not matter what you do."

I hated his metaphors sometimes.

"Then what the hell am I supposed to do, Niall?" The desperation was clear in my tone. "If I can't fix it, then what _can_ I do?"

"I dunno. You can't fix it 'cos it's happened, but you can keep yourself from doing it again in the future?"

"That'd be great advice if I could get her to even answer my messages," I muttered, glancing towards the device sat beside me. I pressed the button to light up the phone in hopes of seeing some notification of acknowledgement on my lock screen, but there was nothing.

"If I saw you call me that many times while I was cross with you, I'd avoid you too," he said simply, returning to his midnight snack.

I rolled my eyes, words dripping in sarcasm. "You're really good at this encouragement thing, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Y'know I don't sugar-coat serious things like this," he responded.

"Yeah, you usually don't address them at all," I retorted quickly.

"Alright, fair, but this isn't about me." Chewing, he pushed his food into his cheek before speaking again. "Do you love her?"

Was he serious? What a stupid question.

"Would I be crying on your couch every day the past week if I didn't?"

"Answer the question, Harry."

I paused, letting out a long and deep sigh. "I feel lost without her."

"That's not what I'm asking," Niall responded. "Do you love Mikayla?"

"What are you getting at, Niall?" I was starting to get tired of the repetitive questioning. "Clearly my answers aren't good enough for you."

Groaning, Niall ran his fingers through his mostly brown hair. "Jesus Christ. When you were together, could you see a future with her? Or was she in your life out of convenience, 'cos you needed an escape from your life at home? 'Cos there's a big difference between The One and the one right now."

I hadn't thought about it that way. Suddenly, my exasperation with Niall's line of questioning disappeared. The context of our relationship had always been the same: we met because of my escape to the strip club and then she became my escape. Did that mean I didn't really love her and only loved what she represented and was able to give me? Some form of freedom from the oppression I felt with Jasmine?

"Well?"

I'd been quiet for awhile, thinking over my response carefully, when Niall's voice interrupted my train of thought. I glanced over towards him and slowly gave a shrug. "I dunno, Niall."

"Then you need to sort that out before you do anything." The frown on his face was evident. "I know she made you happy, but that's not enough to constitute a proper relationship. It takes a lot of hard work and you need to put your own selfish desires aside in order to make her happy too. Her feelings for you ran deep, otherwise she'd not be this upset. If you want her, then show her. But you can't have your cake and eat it too."

Correction: I hated his metaphors all of the time.

"What does that even mean, Niall?" I sighed.

"It means you can't keep her at arm's length and expect her to stick around," he elaborated. "If you want her, you gotta want her with everything you have and show her, or you're gonna lose her for good when she realises she deserves better than that and finds someone willing to give it to her."

I didn’t know how to respond.

Niall was right. Up until now I’d been keeping Mikayla at arm’s length because I was too afraid to leave Jasmine so I could be with her and only her. She didn’t deserve to be toyed around with like that, and now that it had happened, I couldn’t take it back no matter how much I wished I could.

Not the moments that we shared. I would never give those up. I wish they’d been under different circumstances, though. I wish I’d had the courage to leave Jasmine sooner so I could’ve shown Mikayla how much she meant to me. Now I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get the chance to do that.

Standing from the couch, Niall patted my shoulder and grabbed his empty plate. “It’s late. You should get some rest, mate.”

“Yeah,” I said softly, running my fingers through my hair. “Thanks, Niall.”

“You know where to find me if you need anything.” Niall left the living room, heading through the doorway to the kitchen and leaving me by myself once again.

I didn’t know what to do with myself. I could keep checking my phone, waiting for a response that I knew would never come, or I could try to sleep. I knew that with the thoughts Niall had put into my head though that I wouldn’t be able to do that for awhile.

I stood and made my way into the small corner office. The room was filled with unpacked boxes, since it had been the one room they figured could wait until everything else was put away, so the least I could do while I was up was sort through things and get it in some sense of order. It’d give me time to think and something to do while being productive. I didn’t see the harm in it.

I got through a few boxes of office supplies -- notebooks, printer, thing that belonged inside of desk drawers -- before I reached a box that seemed heavier than the rest. I didn’t think they’d possibly have that many things to tote around with them, but when I sliced open the tape and pulled open the flaps, I noticed a familiar set of photo albums snugly inside.

Mum must’ve given them to Gemma to bring over. She’d always talked about sending me some copies of albums, but I told her I wouldn’t have anywhere to put them in the flat. Jasmine had everything the way she wanted it and would rarely let me make any decorating decisions. I had to get my own rented space for my art because she wouldn’t allow me to keep it there, even though we had the space. She never wanted me to get anything dirty. When I agreed to it, I assumed it was because she cared enough about our home to not want it to get ruined. Now I realise she only wanted who I really was out of the way of who she wanted me to be.

My fingers ran over the spines of the books before I tugged a newer looking album from inside, looking at the cover to see what was included in it. They were pictures from the wedding.

Taking in a deep breath, I stared at the cover, trying to decide if I wanted to torture myself by looking through it. I knew there’d be photos of me and Mikayla inside. I could still remember the night as if it had happened the night before. How could I not? That night meant more to me than my own wedding.

I took a seat in the office chair, carefully cracking the book open and staring at the images on the first few pages. I remembered there being two photographers, one there to follow the bride and the other the groom, so it made sense to see pages worth of pictures while everyone was getting ready for the ceremony. You could almost feel Niall’s anxiety through the photographs, the rest of the groomsmen and myself chatting away and laughing in the background of various shots.

I flipped the page and was met with a picture of Gemma, Lou, and Mikayla, Lou in the process of doing my sister’s hair while she talked with Mikayla. She had rollers in her hair and dolphin shapes all across her pajama pants and I couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. Even in the most ridiculous of get-ups, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. That had to mean something, right?

I skipped over the pictures from the ceremony and went straight to the ones from the reception towards the back. I continued looking over the pages, my eyes always searching for her. Was this how it would be from now on? Would I look at everything and hope to find her in it?

Finally, I found one of the two of us on the dance floor, the only two figures in focus in the foreground. Our eyes locked on one another’s, my hand on the small of her back and holding her close. I couldn’t tell what song it was, but judging by our positions, it must’ve been the one that Ed sang. I remembered that night. I remembered looking at her like she was the only person in the room because to me, she was the only important one in that moment.

I slipped the picture out of its plastic sleeve to look at it more clearly. I carefully traced her outline with my fingertip, faint smile coming to my lips. It wasn’t until I heard footsteps that I pulled my attention away, glancing up in time to see Gemma in the doorway.

“There you are,” she sighed, relieved. “I went to check on you and see if you were asleep, but you weren’t there. Thought maybe you’d gone off to drink yourself into a stupor or something.”

“I don’t have the money for that,” I said with a curt laugh, glancing back down to the picture in my hand. 

“What’re you doing?” she asked, stepping into the room and yawning, covering her mouth in the process.

“I was unpacking some things. Got distracted.”

Gemma stopped beside me and looked down at the album. When she noticed the picture I was holding, her face softened into a sympathetic smile. “You’re torturing yourself, you mean.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” I didn’t look up, still focused on the picture.

“Have you gone over to see if she’d answer the door?” she wondered, leaning against the desk built into the wall.

I shook my head, finally breaking away from the image to look at her once more. “I’ve already got stitches, don’t think I need a broken nose from a door slammed in my face as well.”

“I dunno, it could go well with that black eye you’ve got,” she teased. “Maybe she’ll take pity on you and let you in.”

I shook my head, slipping the photograph back into its plastic sleeve. I knew she was trying to joke like she always did, but it didn’t help. I think she realised when she cleared her throat to catch my attention again.

“I’m proud of you, y’know.”

“For what?” I asked, brows knitting together. “For ruining the good things in my life?”

“For finally getting the courage to leave,” she corrected, offering up a more genuine smile, though it was soft. “You may not have gone about it in the right way, but… You’ve deserved better for a long time. I was only hoping you’d be able to see that for yourself.”

“I didn’t know what better was until I met Mikayla,” I admitted.

“I know Niall’s probably already talked to you, given you some advice on what you shouldn’t do or say, but I think what you need to do is go and see her.” Looking up, I noticed that Gemma seemed a bit unsure, which was strange coming from someone who was usually so confident. “She may hate your guts right now, but texting and calling requires no effort whatsoever. Showing you care enough to get off your arse and take public transport down to see her and apologise in person though? That means a little more, even if she’s not ready to forgive you.”

“You think I should?” At this point, I was willing to do anything if it meant I at least got to see her.

“I think it couldn’t hurt your chances,” she replied, smile growing a little more. “Besides, I would like my couch back at some point.”

A burst of air left through my nose in some form of laughter at her last comment. Taking my bottom lip in between my teeth, I contemplated over my options. It was late, nearly 2 in the morning judging by the clock on the wall. She could be in one of three places right now. It couldn’t hurt to try, right?

I stood from my chair, went over to Gemma, and gave her a big hug with a kiss to the top of her head. “Thanks, Gem. I’ll be back.”

“You may wanna take a shower first, you reek.”

“Don’t have time!” I called over my shoulder as I darted from the office.

I went to where my bags were and grabbed out a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom, attempting to multitask brushing my teeth, getting changed, and putting on deodorant to mask the smell of the fact I’d not showered properly today. It took about 25 minutes before I was out of the apartment and hailing a cab on the street, heading into Brooklyn with my hopes high. Even if she didn’t want to talk to me, I would be able to say my piece and know that she’d at least heard what I had to say.

I stopped by the club first. It was the first place we met and I knew she worked late hours, but she wasn’t there. At least that’s what the manager, Richie, said when I arrived. He almost seemed annoyed with the fact that she wasn’t, telling me that if I found her to have her call him immediately. That was concerning, but I tried not to think much on it.

Next was the diner, but she wasn’t there either. Rita assured me she hadn’t seen her in a few days and that got me a little more concerned. If even Rita hadn’t seen her, then where did she go?

My last stop was her apartment building. I paid the driver and asked him to wait outside as I went in, that I’d be down again soon if things didn’t work out. I hoped they would. I rehearsed what I would say as I made my way up the steps to the correct floor, the one I remember following her to after the night I’d brought Jasmine to the diner. I walked down the hall and read off the numbers, stopping in front of the one that I recognized.

Well, here was my chance.

Knocking, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, waiting. I waited for any kind of response, any indication that there was life on the other side. It took a minute before I heard footsteps and a light being switched on, the locks being undone on the other side, and then the door opening slowly.

Instead of Mikayla, a woman about her height with lighter brown hair stuck her head around the edge of the door, looking out sleepily. The resemblance was uncanny. I’d never met her mother before now, but I assumed this was her.

“Miss Beaumont?” I asked, voice quiet so as not to wake the neighbors.

“Yes? May I help you?” she spoke groggily.

“I’m sorry if I woke you. I was wondering if Mikayla was in? I really need to speak with her, but she won’t answer her phone,” I explained, biting my lip.

Mikayla’s mother looked me over for a few moments before opening the door a little more. “You must be Harry.”

What did she know about me?

“I am, yeah,” I replied slowly.

Without another word, she reached up and slapped me across my cheek, the sudden contact jolting my face in the opposite direction. I stood in stunned silence for a moment before carefully looking back down to her, bringing my hand to my cheek.

“I deserved that…”

“Yes, you did,” she commented. “How could you treat my daughter that way?”

“It wasn’t meant to get that fa--”

“I don’t care what you meant to happen, young man.” Her eyes narrowed. “You hurt her. There’s nothing you can do to make that right.”

“If you could please just get her so I could talk to her, I want to apolog--”

“She’s not here.” Her words stopped me, my train of thought dissipating.

“What?”

“Mikayla’s not here. No, I don’t know where she is. I wish I could tell you…”

The way her voice trailed off and her arms folded across her chest, I could tell that something was off. “When did she leave?”

“The same day she came home crying because of you,” she retorted. I tried not to say anything, but it was hard. “She found a letter, we got into an argument, and then she left. She won’t return my calls either.”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat, unsure of what to do. “A letter from who?”

“That’s none of your concern. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work in the morning.”

The door closed and I was left standing in the hall, defeated. I had come all of this way for nothing. I had no idea where Mikayla was -- nobody in her life that I knew of seemed to know her whereabouts -- and I was nowhere closer to being able to tell her how sorry I was for what I’d done.

I resorted myself to returning to the cab and heading back to Niall and Gemma’s, phone clasped tightly in my hand in the back seat. I didn’t know what I could do or say that might make her want to respond to me, but I needed to try. Without another thought, I sent her one final message, deciding that this would be the last one until she wanted to reach out to me.

“ _Where are you_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaat a whirlwind writing this chapter was. Getting inside of Harry's head proved to be a little more difficult than I thought, but I hope I did it justice.
> 
> What'd you think?
> 
> Who was expecting to see Niall and Gemma coming back? Were you happy to see them? They'll be in the story a lot more from here on out.
> 
> Also, if you haven't noticed, each chapter title is from a song and while I don't typically advocate listening to all of them, I definitely want you to listen to the one this chapter was named after ([She is the Sunlight by Trading Yesterday](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=km_JvvizkBc)) because it's incredibly relevant to this whole chapter and it's one of my favorite songs ever. It's just beautiful all around.
> 
> On a much more serious note, I wanted to address Harry and Jasmine's relationship:
> 
> I know that it can be confusing to some people why someone would stay with someone that treated them the way that Jasmine treated Harry, but it's an incredibly complicated situation, especially when it's being endured from somebody that you once loved. More often than not, it is not a choice that one makes so much as it is a symptom of prolonged abuse. When someone endures this treatment for extended periods of time, they begin to believe that they deserve to be treated that way and buy into the lies that they're being fed. That is exactly what happened in this case.
> 
> Emotional/psychological abuse is something that a lot of people go through, whether it be from significant others, friends, co-workers and sometimes even family members, and it happens equally with men and women as perpetrators. When it's from somebody that you love, someone you trust to have your best interest at heart, it's much harder to believe that what they're doing to you isn't justified. The way that Jasmine treated Harry, by manipulating and belittling him, disregarding his feelings, controlling what he did, and various other things, falls under the umbrella of emotional abuse.
> 
> If you'd like to learn more about what constitutes this kind of abuse, [here is a list of 30 signs of emotional abuse](http://liveboldandbloom.com/11/relationships/signs-of-emotional-abuse). I hope that none of you ever have to experience something like that in your lifetimes, but I urge you to know the signs ahead of time so you can know when to get out before it gets worse. Nobody deserves to be treated this way.
> 
> I love you all and I want you to be safe. If you have any other questions about this or about the dynamic of their relationship, please don't hesitate to ask. I will do my best to answer each of your questions.
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading. Your support means so much to me. We're almost to the end, just a little over 10 more chapters to go!


	19. Who You Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** There is a scene of a non-consensual act that could be potentially triggering in this chapter. Though it is not written in graphic detail, the lead up could be triggering. I will indicate where to stop reading for those who still want to read the remainder of the chapter.

I stayed with my dad and Shaina for a few weeks following our lunch. I wanted to know him more and he felt the same about me, so it only made sense, especially considering I still wasn’t sure I was at a point where I could forgive my mother. I knew that eventually I would have to return home and see her again. She’d done so much for me my whole life that I couldn’t cut her out over one thing, but my anger was justified. She’d kept secrets from me, things that I had asked her about repeatedly, and she’d lied for years to keep me away from someone who could’ve helped us.

Despite feeling comfortable around Chester, Shaina was still distant. He had fit me into his routine as if I were always meant to be there, but it seemed like she was avoiding me. She was there for my birthday dinner for all of twenty minutes before she used the excuse of needing a good night’s sleep before classes the next day to go to her room. I tried not to think much of it. I knew -- or hoped -- that eventually she would realize I wasn’t trying to take him away from her, that I only wanted to know the man she’d gotten her whole life to know. After what dad had said about her feelings towards the situation, I could understand it, to a degree.

There was one time that my mother went on a few dates with someone back in the day and even if it didn’t end up working out between them, there was a time when I thought that I would have to share her with someone else and I wouldn’t be getting her full attention anymore. It was a selfish thought, I know. I wanted her to be happy, but she was all I had. Now I had Chester too, but Shaina? He was the only thing she had left.

It was the beginning of September when I finally made my way back home. I hadn’t been sleeping well and even though Chester had helped me get medication that would hopefully counteract my night terrors, I realized after awhile that it was the mixture of things keeping me up most nights. The change of environment, the tension between me and Shaina, and the underlying guilt I felt for consistently ignoring every text and phone call I got from both Harry and my mother worked together to create a frenzied mind that made it impossible to stay asleep.

Harry had called me multiple times every night since the day I left. Each time, he’d leave a message, and each time I would listen before deleting it. I guess it was my way of punishing myself, listening to his voice. It used to bring me such comfort and now I felt nauseous at the sound of his apologies. What I would’ve given for this kind of attention when we were together -- were we ever really together though? -- instead of the infrequent bouts of communication.

Eventually I knew I would have to return to the life I had before I’d met him and, after awhile, the calls stopped. It was almost like he’d disappeared from my life completely, but I knew that the Harry I fell for would still be locked away deep in my subconscious. He was gone and that meant that life could carry on like normal.

Stepping into the club again for the first time in what felt like years filled me with dread. I knew that I'd get the chance to see my girls again, but I didn't know what to expect from Richie. In his mind, I was his girl and only his. If he knew that I'd been with someone else and that was part of the reason why I was gone for so long, he'd go ballistic. I had managed to avoid him on my way in, presumably because he was busy with something or someone else, but I knew he’d find out that I was back by the time I got on stage. I couldn’t hide from him forever, especially not under his own roof.

I kept my head down as I made my way through the club, greeting the new bouncer at the front door and quietly wondering where Otto had gone. I hoped he still worked here, but who knew what had actually changed in the time I'd been away.

The night itself was rough. I had to get back into the mindset of giving myself away to anyone who would pay and it was difficult. After knowing what it was like to be loved and valued, even if only for a few weeks, it felt even more degrading to put myself through this and allow anybody with the means to do so to touch me in the ways that Harry had. I tried my best to zone out, to go through the motions, and it seemed to work for the majority of my shift. I got in as many men as I could before I decided I couldn’t do it anymore. Not tonight.

I’d turned the sign on my door and closed it so nobody would attempt to come inside while I cleaned up the room. I got my things together, tucking away the money that I’d made for the night into the outside pocket of my bag.

I was finishing up when I heard his voice.

"Mikayla."

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Richie staring me down. He stood in the doorway of my room, the way his frame blocked almost the entire entrance threatening, and I stopped in my tracks. Was it instinct or fear? A mix of both, I was sure. I could see the intensity in his light brown eyes from across the room. I never knew they could be so intimidating, but his gaze was piercing through me. I felt exposed.

“Get over here. Now.”

I zipped up the pocket of my bag quickly before I made my way over towards him, swallowing hard around a lump in my throat. I didn’t make eye contact, watching the floor as I went. I couldn’t force myself to look up at him any longer.

Ever since I started working here, even as Richie’s assistant, he was always more harsh on me. He claimed it was out of love and wanting me to do better, but I knew that wasn’t true. He was possessive. He only wanted me to do what he wanted and any time I stepped out of line, he would punish me as he saw fit. This would be one of those times, judging by his demeanor.

Richie closed and locked the door behind him, cutting us off from the rest of the world outside, and immediately my shoulders tensed. He didn’t say anything for awhile, walked around to stand on the other side of me, causing me to turn in order to face him again. He was observing me, taking in my face, like a lion stalking its prey. Slowly, I brought my eyes up from his shirt to his face and his were locked on mine, never wavering.

“Hi…” I greeted softly, averting my gaze quickly. The pounding of my heart against my chest made it feel tighter the longer I stared.

“Look at me.” Reaching up, he took my chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing my head up again.

I tensed more and closed my eyes initially at the yank on my chin, but I slowly opened them to look at him after a moment of hesitation.

“Where have you been?” he asked, voice low.

“I… I-I went on vacation,” I stuttered out in a mumble.

His eyes narrowed at my response. “For three months? You really expect me to believe that?”

“I did for some of i--”

“Some of it, but where were you the rest of that time? I know you were keeping in contact with Olivia, but you didn’t bother telling me where you were. What’s that about, huh?” He tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, looking me dead in the eye. “So, I’m going to ask you again and you’re going to tell me the truth. Where were you?”

I started to tremble. I didn’t have a reason for not coming back right away other than not wanting to be here, but I couldn’t tell him that. That left me fumbling to try and find some reason I could use in its place, a hesitation he picked up on almost immediately.

“You don’t have an answer for me, do you?”

Carefully, I shook my head, trying to avert my gaze again, but to no avail. His grip grew tighter and I winced, my brows knitting together in pain.

“I think I have an answer you can use.” He leaned in, his hot breath against my ear, making my skin crawl and forcing my back up against the door. “Someone came in looking for you the other day. By name. Whatever he wanted seemed pretty urgent and he looked disappointed when I told him you weren’t here. You have any idea what he could’ve wanted?”

My breath caught in my throat. Was he talking about Harry?

“I-I don’t know… I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

**_(Stop reading here if you feel you will be triggered)_ **

His hand slipped from my chin to grip right just below my jaw, around the top of my throat. He didn’t squeeze, but his fingers twitched against my skin and I could tell that he wanted to, which paralyzed me.

“You sure about that?” His voice became more sinister. “You two sure spent a lot of time together in here a few months ago.”

“Him? No, I haven’t seen him in mont--ah!” Richie’s hold on my throat tightened, cutting me off. My hand instinctively reached up to wrap around his wrist, fingers clawing into the limited space between his palm and my throat.

“Don’t lie to me, Mikayla,” he hissed. “Have you been stepping out on me?”

“Richie, please…” I whimpered, my eyes watering and eyelids forced tightly together.

“Answer the fucking question.”

My lip quivered and I tried my hardest not to cry, though the tears threatened to fall anyway. “Yes…”

“What was that?”

“Yes! Yes. But we’re not together anymore. I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean t--”

Before I could say anything else, he clutched tighter, blocking off my airway and forcing me to stop talking. The only sound that managed to escape me was a gasp and another pathetic whimper. My vision was blurred by the hot tears that now streamed down my face and it kept me from seeing the inhuman look on his face.

"I don't want your apologies," he spat, teeth gritted together. "Should've thought about that before. Turn around."

I didn't respond. I couldn't. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't run, I couldn't cry for help -- who would've helped me anyway? The only thing I could do at this point was obey.

I turned, but he grabbed my arm and flipped around faster, impatient with the pace I was going. I winced at the pull in my back as he held both of my arms behind me with one hand, the other ripping away at the panties beneath my skirt.

With my cheek pressed into the wooden door, I closed my eyes and accepted my fate. I tried to think of other things, happier things, something to transport myself anywhere but here so that I could get through it.

**_(Begin reading again here)_ **

I thought of London. I thought of the way I felt being there, with Gemma and the girls, with Harry. I thought of everything that city had brought me and the memories I'd made there in that short week I was there. Even if they were soiled now by stupid decisions made on Harry's end, I'd always have those times. I wish I had stayed. Maybe then none of this would have happened. I'd still be happy. I'd still be with him.

Richie left me soon after he was finished, but not before taking the money I'd earned that night from my bag.

"This is to make up for you being gone," he'd said before leaving me in a crumpled mess on the floor, tears and makeup staining my face and my top.

It took me nearly half an hour to compose myself enough to stand and wipe down my face so I could go, leaving anyone who happened to see me on the way out none the wiser at what had taken place. I knew they'd figure it out sooner or later if they hadn't already, but it would always remain something unspoken.

My chest was tight with the sobs I was holding back as I made my way out of the club. I was trying my hardest to keep my hands steady, gripping onto my bag. I needed somewhere to go where I could let this out. Someone to talk to that knew about everything. Daphne was gone, Dory still didn't know about what had happened, and I couldn't tell Olivia or she'd keep me from working. The only person who knew everything was the one person I wasn't sure would be willing to listen.

I pulled out my phone, found the right number, and called, walking as quickly as I could to escape the building. The ringing only made me more anxious and I began mumbling to myself. "Please pick up... Please pick up..."

"Hello...?" The response was groggy. I knew it was late, but I hadn't expected her to be asleep.

"Shaina, it's Mikki…”

“Mikki…? Do you realize what time it is?” she grumbled.

“I know, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I just... I need someone to talk to right now and... I-I couldn’t think of anybody else." It was hard not to break down all over again, but a few sniffles did manage to break their way through the silence on the line. The pause in conversation made me wonder if she’d hung up or if the line had gone dead without me realizing, but I heard some shuffling on the other end before she responded.

"What’s wrong?” The tone in her voice shifted from mildly annoyed to concerned instantly.

“I… I can’t talk about it on the phone,” I responded softly. By now I was a few blocks away from the club, but I still didn’t feel safe. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever feel safe anywhere near the club again. Richie had done this before, but never with such vehemence.

“Then come over. It’s just me tonight.” I was expecting an exasperated sigh to follow, but none came.

Nodding, I sniffled some more before I managed to spot a cab coming down the road. “Thank you. I’ll be there soon.”

I waved my arm to flag the car down and it pulled over, allowing me to climb into the backseat. I gave the driver the address and wrapped my arms around my bag, holding it close despite nothing of value being inside any longer. I hoped I would have enough money in my bank account to pay the driver.

When I got to their building, I paid and gave what I could for a tip, quickly making my way inside and up to the proper floor. I’d managed to stop trembling somewhere along the way, but my chest still hurt and my whole body was tense. I wasn’t sure if that feeling would go away for awhile.

As soon as I stepped off the elevator, I saw Shaina sitting in the living room, wrapped up in a white fluffy robe with her slippers poking out from underneath. Her hair was swept up in a messy bun and she was sipping on what I could only assume was coffee by the aroma in the room. She looked up when I walked in and set her mug down.

“There you are,” she said, standing. “What’s wrong?”

“C-can I take a shower real quick? I promise I’ll tell you after that, I just… I need to get clean.”

She nodded slowly, motioning for me to head to the bathroom up the steps, which I did quickly. I ran the water to an almost scalding temperature before getting inside and scrubbing away at my skin, trying to remove the remnants of his scent and his touch from my skin. I don’t know how long I spent in there, but by the time I was out, my skin was red and my shoulders a little less tense than before.

I got changed into the pair of sweats and tshirt I had in my bag before making my way back down towards the living room. I was expecting Shaina to have dozed off again, but she still sat up on the couch, waiting for me to get back.

“Hey.” I offered up a soft smile, but it crumbled away quickly and I closed my eyes, setting my bag down beside the couch.

“Are you alright?” she asked, to which I shook my head in response, taking a seat beside her.

“Has Dory ever told you anything about Richie?” I asked, words quiet.

She furrowed her brows in thought before shaking her head. “Not that I can remember. Is he at the club?”

“Yeah,” I started, clearing my throat in hopes of ridding myself of the constricting feeling. “He runs the place. He, um… H-he’s not a very nice guy. I haven’t been to work in a while a-and I guess he found out about Harry and…” I trailed off, the rush of emotions coming back in full force. I squeezed my eyes shut, but a tear leaked out before I could and I rested my head in my hands.

“What did he do to you, Mikayla?” Shaina was beginning to get defensive and I could hear it in the way she asked. Once I managed to lift my head, I could see the frustration in her features as well.

“He took everything I made tonight and ‘put me in my place’ as he called it,” I said, my voice cracking.

Shaina didn’t say anything, but she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me in for a hug. I easily sunk into it, my arms moving around her and holding onto her tightly. She let me cry on her shoulder, never stopping me, only holding me close and running her hand over my hair and my back while I let everything out.

Soon enough, the tears dried up and I took in deep breaths to calm myself down. My head was still rested on her shoulder when I heard her speak again. “Did you tell anyone else?”

“No,” I muttered, biting my lip. “I didn’t want anybody to worry.”

“Mikayla, of course people are going to worry,” she said, pulling away slowly to look down at me more properly. “They worry because they care about you and don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I end up getting hurt whether I do the right thing or not, so what’s the point of getting everybody riled up over something like this?” I asked, sitting up and wiping my face free of tear streaks.

“Because you can get his ass arrested if you go to the cops right now.”

“I don’t… I don’t want that.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” I trailed off, unsure of my reasoning. I didn’t want to try and defend Richie by any means, but what would it leave me with if I brought the police into this? Surely they wouldn’t believe me. I was a stripper. I took of my clothes and sold my body for a living. They’d think I deserved it and then what? Richie would be even angrier with me than he was before. “Because I need this job. The girls at the club need this job too. I can’t take that away from them.”

“How do you know he isn’t doing it to them too?” she asked, lips pursed into a frown.

I had never thought of Richie doing this to someone else. If they were all doing what I was doing, keeping it to myself and hoping that nobody figured it out, then it was surely possible. I didn’t have a response to give, so I looked down at my hands, letting out a slow and shaky breath.

"I think you're looking for something stable," she began, tone gentle. "But you're looking in the wrong places. You can't find that sort of peace through other people, and definitely not by working for that scumbag. Others can help you, but it's something you have to find either within yourself or by yourself."

I looked over towards her, taking in what she said. She was right. Stability was something I craved, but I had no idea where to find it. It had never been something I had in my life. I was constantly living on the edge, waiting for something bad to happen, expecting the worst. It made it easier to live that way for so long, but now it felt like life was crashing down around me at every turn. I couldn’t keep living like this.

“Where do I look then?” I asked, lip quivering.

She paused for a moment, eyes cast downward to watch her fidgeting fingers turning the ring around on her other hand. "Whenever I need to get away or think for awhile, I go somewhere quiet. That's hard to find in the city." Reaching into her purse on the edge of the couch, she pulled out her key ring and removed one from the silver loop, handing it to me. "We have a house down in Myrtle Beach, near the water. Mom and I would go during the summer when dad was stuck working. It's tucked away, so you're not completely swarmed by tourists. Just say the word and I'll get you a ticket down. It might do you some good."

I was speechless, staring at the key in her hand. This was a place that Shaina shared with her mother, one that was clearly still important enough to her to travel down there frequently. Yet here she was, attempting to hand it off to me. I knew how much her mother meant to her and I didn't want to infringe on that.

"Are you sure you want to give this to me?" I asked, bringing my gaze up to meet hers.

Taking my hand, she turned it palm side up and set the silver key into my hand, closing my fingers around it. "You're family now. I can't change what happened in the past, but I can make sure I don't miss out on our future."

I took in a deep breath and the faintest of smiles came to my lips. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I was being a bitch before,” she laughed a bit. “And if I have anything to say about it, I’m going to make Richie pay for what he did to you.”

I didn’t say anything, only looked down at the key in my hand. I had always wanted to go to the beach, and right now it sounded like the perfect escape from everything. I couldn’t leave though. Not right now. I still had bills that needed to be paid and I needed to fix things with my mom before I could go anywhere.

Shaina had left me to myself now, saying she needed to get sleep before class tomorrow. I thanked her again and tucked the key away into my bag for safe keeping. I wouldn’t take her up on the offer just yet, but having that as a fallback gave me some sense of security.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowee. Hello, early update this week to make up for the past couple of late ones!
> 
> Are you guys glad that Shaina's there for Mikki now? What do you hope to see from them in the future?
> 
> In case anybody didn't already know, I'm currently nominated for "Best Smut" in the 1D Imagination Awards. You can vote for that by [clicking here](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1aKBBtda6rKxuMxLK-G6UJDWEpN4DBIJpNIb_q-OLeZA/viewform) and going to the 8th category down. You can vote once a day, but don't do it more than that or else I'll be disqualified.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and for all of your support throughout this whole process.


	20. Weight of the World

The air grew crisp and cool as the month dragged on and changed into autumn. Summer was my favorite time of year, but I had to admit that the change in seasons brought out an excitement in me. The thought of drinking hot cocoa and apple cider wrapped up in blankets and the promise of half-priced candy the day after Halloween was enough to make anybody giddy, but especially me. It had become a tradition to do these things with my mom and the girls and it became something I looked forward to every fall.

This year was different though. I knew that the holidays would be much more complicated now that I had to split time between mom and Chester. That, plus Daphne's unsolved disappearance, and this persistent nauseating feeling I'd had since that night with Richie -- these weren't exactly the makings of a festive holiday season.

"How are you feeling?"

I was startled away from my book at the voice breaking into my subconscious state, looking up to see mom's head poking in through the cracked door with a faint smile. Ever since I came back home, she's been hesitant about the subjects she approached me with. I guess she didn't want to push my buttons and have me run away again.

It made sense. The trust I had in her was slowly rebuilding, but it wasn't anywhere close to what it used to be. I still stayed some nights with Chester and Shaina, but I split my time between here and there. I don't know if things would ever be the same with us, but I was going to give her a chance to fix things regardless.

"I'm okay," I responded softly, placing my bookmark between the pages and setting the novel aside. "How did you know I wasn't feeling well? I didn't want to worry you."

"It's hard not to when I hear you throwing up in the middle of the night," she offered, pushing the door open a bit more. She held a mug in her hands, the steam rising from the surface of the contents inside, and I smiled some in return.

"Is that for me?" I asked, motioning to the cup.

She nodded, stepping into the room and setting it onto my bedside table, coaster included.

"There's ginger in it. Thought it might help settle your stomach," she explained. She placed the back of her cool hand against my forehead, and I watched her as she tried to determine my temperature from the touch. "No fever... I'd say stomach bug or something you ate, but this isn't the first night it's been bothering you."

"Do all moms have supersonic hearing?" I asked with a small laugh. "It's been a few weeks, give or take."

"You should go see a doctor, monkey. It could be serious," she said with a frown.

"It hasn't been every day... Well, not multiple times every day. I feel fine after I get it out usually," I explained, trying to shrug it off.

I'd never liked going to the doctors. Having spent so much time in the hospital when mom was getting her treatments, I associated medical buildings with the negative feelings that came from that experience. It had taken serious convincing by Chester to even get me to go for my sleep issues a few weeks back and he even had to send Loretta to go with me so that I'd actually go to the appointment instead of skipping out.

"Still," she began, frowning. "I'll take off a bit more time at lunch tomorrow and we can stop at the clinic."

"Mom, it's fine. Really," I insisted. "I don't want you to miss work for me. I'll go. I promise."

She looked over my face before sighing, leaning in to press a kiss to my forehead. "Get some sleep, mija. I'll call to make sure you go."

"You really don't have to." But I smiled nonetheless at her worry, watching as she headed towards the door.

"I'll make sure Rita checks in on you then," she said with a light tease in her tone. I shook my head and wished her goodnight as she closed the door, my smile slowly falling once she was gone.

What mom didn’t know was that I had already scheduled an appointment for myself for the following day. I didn't know how to tell her that I had a good idea I knew why I hadn't been feeling well, so I didn't. There wasn't a reason to worry her yet when I didn't have an actual answer myself, even if I was fairly certain.

The past two months had been so stressful between new medication, tension with Harry, at the club, and at home, that I'd initially attributed my schedule to just have been thrown off slightly and it would correct itself soon enough. Occasionally my birth control would also cause my cycle to go out of whack one month, so I tried not to worry. I waited and waited, but nothing ever came. It had been three months since I'd had my last period, and now I knew was the time to panic.

I knew typical pregnancies didn’t start to show signs until a few months in, but I also knew that pregnancies were different for everybody. I had the morning sickness -- though could it really be considered morning sickness if it happened randomly throughout the day? -- the missed period, and the soreness in my back and chest that typically went along with the lists of early symptoms I read online. Because of course everything you read on the internet is the truth.

Based on that information alone, I wasn’t sure how far along I would be if I was actually pregnant. That would be vital to know in figuring out who the father was. It had been a little over a month since the encounter with Richie and even though I had taken the morning after pill a day later, I wasn’t sure how effective it would be.

The only other option was Harry. With what I’d read, it would make more sense if it was his, based on the timing. It had been almost three months since we’d last been intimate, about two and a half since I’d even seen him.

Either way, I wasn’t sure how I’d be able to stomach the news, for two very different reasons.

Picking up my phone, I opened up the text thread I had going with Shaina. Realistically, I knew I should probably go down to the drugstore and pick up a home pregnancy test, but I wanted to be able to know how far along I was too if I did end up being pregnant, which I couldn’t figure out on my own. I quickly typed in a message, reading it over before sending.

" _Are you busy tomorrow? I need to go to the doctor, but I don't want to go alone._ "

I didn't expect her to be able to tag along. She had class, no doubt, and there wasn't any way she'd miss that because of me being too afraid to see the doctor on my own. I knew I could take a pregnancy test at home, but I didn't want mom or Chester to find the test either, plus who knew how accurate those things could be.

Nibbling on my lip, I looked over her response when my phone signaled a new incoming text.

" _I have class until 1. Free after that. Do it then?_ "

I hadn't expected her to be free let alone actually want to go with me. If anything, I had assumed she would’ve been asking about why I was going, trying to see if I was alright, but nothing. She simply agreed to go, no questions asked.

I was still getting used to the fact that Shaina and I were getting closer now. Ever since I came to her in tears about my situation with Richie, she'd been protective of me. She made sure there was always someone there to pick me up from work and drive me home every night and would call to make sure I got back safely, among other things. I didn't realize how caring she could be underneath the cold demeanor she'd put up for the first few weeks of being under the same roof, but now it felt like we were really family. I was grateful to have her.

“ _That works for me. I can meet you after your class. Thank you so much, sis._ "

Sis. Still felt weird.

Though I wasn’t sure if I would be able to sleep, I drank the tea that mom had given me and noticed the familiar hints of lavender and chamomile hidden behind the biting taste of ginger. It was the usual tea that she’d make for me before bed when I had trouble sleeping. She insisted it would help me to relax and relieve stress. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, but I appreciated the effort regardless.

I finished off my tea and one more chapter of the book before attempting to sleep again. I needed to be at least somewhat rested. If I did end up receiving life-changing news, I wanted to be prepared. Or as prepared as one could be in this situation.

The next afternoon came before I knew it. I was wrapped up in a red coat I'd had since high school, the buttons down the front clasped together to block out the chill of the breeze. The fabric felt tight around my torso, but I couldn't be sure if it was because I was growing or because the coat itself was old and I'd outgrown it. I tried not to think much of it as I waited, seated on a bench outside of a large academic building on the Columbia campus.

I remembered from the time we first met at Dory's that Shaina was majoring in criminal justice and minoring in business, a combination of subjects I hadn't expected from her. She was always dressed to the nines and had a keen eye for what was aesthetically pleasing, so I always pictured her as a fashion design major, but staring up at the building in front of me reminded me just how serious she was about her academics.

In an odd way, it fit her personality. She'd always talk about stories in the news and criticize how the system was faulty, how she wanted to be a key player in the reform of it. That change was important to her. I imagine it had a lot to do with how she'd lost her mother, but I never wanted to ask. I admired her sense of determination. It made me wonder what I would've majored in had college been an option for me.

It was strange, actually being on a campus. It felt right, like I should've been here too. That would never happen though. Not anytime soon.

People filtered down the steps of the building and I noticed her shorter frame popping out from behind the others, if only because of the bright red beanie that sat atop her head, her black waves cascading across the top of her jean jacket. I stood from my seat, shifting my purse onto my shoulder again, and met her halfway where she'd stopped to shove her textbooks into her large tote bag, giving her a soft smile in return of the wide one she gave me when she looked up.

"Love that jacket," she commented, reaching out to run her hand over my arm. "Very vintage."

"Well, it's old, so... That'd explain it," I replied with a soft chuckle. "You ready to go?"

"Yep. It's not too far, is it? I can give Miles a call and--"

"No, that's okay," I interrupted quickly, scrunching my nose. "It's only a few blocks."

Shaina raised her brows at my quick response but nodded and began walking alongside me towards the edge of campus. While I enjoyed Miles' company, I knew he reported directly to Chester and I didn't want him to find out about this. The thought did bring another query to my mind and I looked over to Shaina with a nervous gaze.

"You didn't tell dad about this, right?"

She looked at me curiously before shaking her head. "No... Is there a reason you're being so secretive about it?"

Yes. "No. I mean, not really. I just don't want to worry a bunch of people if it ends up being nothing."

"If what ends up being nothing?" She sighed. "I know it's none of my business what's going on with you, but you had to know I'd be worried about you willingly going to see a doctor after last time."

I'd nearly forgotten she was there when Chester had initially tried to get me to see one about my sleep issues, but the image of her holding back laughter as I whined like a child at the breakfast table came back to my mind almost immediately. I shrugged, tucking some of my loose hair back behind my ear.

"I, um... I haven't been feeling the greatest lately and I think... I think it could be something. Potentially." I tried to remain as vague as possible, which caused Shaina to roll her eyes and shake her head.

"Alright, you don't have to tell me. I'll find out when we get there."

She was right. I couldn't hide it from her forever.

"I think I might be pregnant," I blurted out, a huff of a sigh leaving me afterward as I tried regaining my composure.

My statement clearly caught her off guard because her eyes went wide and she stopped in her tracks, staring at me. "... This isn't a joke, right?"

"I wish it was," I responded, looking at her, then down at my nails. I nervously picked at the skin around them, biting my lip and waiting for the barrage of questions.

"You don't think... It's not that asshole Richie's, is it?" She asked, his name leaving her mouth like she was spitting venom.

"No. I don't think so, anyway," I commented, voice quieter this time. "That's why I'm going to the doctor. So I can find out for sure and see how far along I am. It's either his or--"

"Or Harry's." She cut me off. I stayed quiet, but I nodded slowly before looking up to her.

The sympathy in her eyes was evident, but I could tell she didn't know what to say. In all honesty, neither did I.

Nothing would be comforting about the situation if the baby turned out to be real and to be Harry's. While I'd prefer that over having to bear the idea that Richie would have a spawn walking around this earth some day, I knew that having Harry's child would mean that I'd either have to do it on my own or talk to him.

I could give the child up for adoption, but I would feel terrible throwing them into the system and moving on with my life as if they'd never existed. The baby was a product of what was love at the time -- at least on my end -- and even though it would hurt to have a reminder of him around every single day, I would rather that than anything.

"Are you going to tell him?" Shaina's question broke the silence.

I shook my head, sighing. "He's stopped calling. He's probably forgotten all about me by now and moved onto some other girl who's naïve enough to fall for his tricks."

"You weren't naïve," she began, reaching out to touch my arm. "You were in love."

"Isn't that the same thing?" I asked, bitter laugh leaving me. A chill ran up my spine and I moved my hands into my pockets before walking again. "We're going to be late."

When we arrived at the doctor's office, I signed myself in, filled in some paper work, and then took a seat in the waiting room beside Shaina. There were only a few other people in there aside from us, but it at least gave me the opportunity to people watch. At least I tried to until Shaina spoke again.

"Do you want me to go in with you?"

"Only if you want to," I said with a small shrug. I would've preferred if she did, but I didn't want to seem greedy when she was already taking time out of her day to be here for me.

"Well, I'm here. Might as well," she replied with a chuckle. "I'll even hold your hand."

I smiled, grateful for the fact that she was trying to keep the mood light so I wouldn't worry too much. I reached over and took her hand in mine, giving it a squeeze.

"Mikayla Beaumont?" A nurse standing in the doorway called out.

"Here goes nothing," Shaina murmured.

I took in a deep breath and stood, Shaina following behind me as we made our way down the halls. My grip on Shaina's hand tightened and my pulse was raising the further we went until we arrived in an exam room.

"Have a seat," the nurse instructed. I nodded and followed what she said, reluctantly releasing Shaina's hand to do so. "I'm going to ask you a few questions about why you're here to see us today, then I'll record your vitals. Does that sound good?"

"You're the professional," I offered with a small smile, picking at my nail beds again.

"You indicated on your forms that you've been experiencing nausea, soreness, and increased fatigue and urination. Can you recall when all of this started?" She asked, pulling out a pen to begin writing.

"About a month or so ago," I started, looking at her. "If it makes it any easier, I'm pretty sure I might be pregnant, but I haven't taken a test to find out for sure, which is kind of why I'm here."

"Oh. Well, that simplifies things. I'll let the doctor know and she'll be in shortly to let you know what we're going to do," she replied, jotting a few notes down before leaving the room.

"That's one way to speed up the process," Shaina snickered from behind her hand.

"I don't want to be in here any longer than I have to be," I sighed, brows furrowed.

"I can tell," she laughed. "Calm down, Speed Racer, we'll be home before you know it."

It took about ten minutes before anybody returned to the room, giving me sufficient time to reread the signs about the flu shot they were offering patients about twelve times. When the door opened, a woman with graying red hair stepped into the room, a new nurse wheeling an ultrasound machine in behind her.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Sutton," she greeted, the smile that accentuated the crows feet at the corners of her eyes somehow managing to relax me enough to stop bouncing my leg. "Since we already know what might be the cause of your symptoms, we're going to take a look and see if we can find anything in there that would give us confirmation. It may be too soon to tell, but based off the information you gave us, there should be a little something. Rebecca's going to help get you situated. I'll be right back in once you're finished to go over your options."

"Thank you," I said with a soft smile, looking towards the ultrasound technician.

I followed her instructions, pulling off my jacket and adjusting the pants and shirt I was wearing to expose my stomach to her once I'd laid back.

"This is going to be cold," she informed me. "I'll count down to three, okay?"

I nodded, closing my eyes and reaching my hand out for Shaina's again in the dark. I felt her hand reach mine just as the countdown hit three. There was a burst of cold gel on my stomach, goosebumps prickling across my skin, and then the lights shut off.

The sounds of the machine coming to life filtered into my ear, but it wasn't until I heard the steady, rhythmic sound of a rapid heart beat that I finally opened my eyes. The wand was pressed against my belly now and looking at the screen, I could've sworn I felt my heart stop.

There, on that small screen, was the outline of a baby. A baby whose heart beat I was listening to in that very moment. A baby that was growing inside of me.

I was speechless. Even though I had my suspicions, having them confirmed left me with so many more questions than answers.

"Your baby's developing quite well so far. You can see the hands here, the toes there," Rebecca explained, pointing out each body part as she shifted the wand to bring up new angles. "You appear to be about 12 weeks along," Rebecca said, looking over to me with a warm smile. "Congratulations."

"T-thank you," I whispered, eyes still glued to the screen. "Could I... Could I get a copy of that?"

"Absolutely," she said with a nod, beginning to pack things up. The lights turned on again and she grabbed some wipes to help remove the gel from my stomach. "I'll let Doctor Sutton know and she'll be in to talk to you again shortly."

I didn't say anything. It was hard finding words to say after news like that. Most people would be ecstatic to be finding out they were having a child with the person they love, but when you lost that person only a few weeks back, it was hard to feel anything but dread about the future.

I think Shaina could tell I was in a state of shock. She went about clearing off my belly for me and helped me sit up again, waiting for any sign of me starting to talk again. "What are you going to do?"

"I just found out I'm pregnant not even five minutes ago, give me some time to think about it," I snapped back, pausing and furrowing my brows at my reaction. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I'll blame it on hormones," she responded with a faint smile.

I looked down at my now covered stomach, hand resting against it. What was I going to do? My life was unstable enough as it was, but throwing a baby into the mix would make everything so much more complicated.

That was when the conversation with Shaina came back to my mind. I needed something stable in my life. Maybe this was what I needed to push me into changing my life for the better.

"I'm going to keep it."

"What?" My response seemed to catch Shaina off guard, her confused look only confirming that.

"I'm going to keep it," I repeated. "You told me I was looking for something stable in my life. Well, now I have this. Now I have a reason to find that something."

"Mikayla, I don't... I don't know if that's a good idea. A baby's a lot of work, especially for one person," she said, biting onto her lip. "I mean, I know I would help as much as I can, but I've got class and then dad's working and your mom too. It'd be--"

"I don't want any of you going out of your way for this. This is something I need to do for myself," I responded, glancing back down at my hand on my belly. "Do you think you could still get me that ticket to the beach?"

Shaina didn't say anything at first. I wondered what she was thinking, if she was trying to come up with some excuse not to give in. Taking in a deep breath, she let it out slowly and nodded. "When do you want to leave?"

"As soon as possible."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Were you expecting that? I sure hope not. ;)
> 
> What do you think about the decision Mikayla made to keep the baby? Do you think she's doing the right thing? What about her heading down to the beach house? What do you think we can expect from the change?
> 
> Also a casual reminder that [you can still vote for Fool's Gold to win Best Smut in the 1D Imagination Awards](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1aKBBtda6rKxuMxLK-G6UJDWEpN4DBIJpNIb_q-OLeZA/viewform)! You have until this Friday (September 4th) to vote, so get voting please!


	21. Talking to the Moon

I wasted no time getting out of the city. I told both Rita and Olivia that I wasn't going to be able to come in for awhile. Both tried to ask questions, but I didn't answer. I didn't want anybody to know what I was doing so they wouldn't try to stop me from leaving. The only person who would know was Shaina, but that was an unavoidable consequence of her buying my one way ticket down to Myrtle Beach.

I knew it was what I needed to do, though. The way I was living here, stripping and waitressing for a living, was no way to raise a child. A fresh start somewhere new, where nobody had the stigma of my occupation or my family background sitting in the back of their mind, would be beneficial for me. At least that's what I hoped. For once, I was doing something for myself instead of allowing life to steer me in whichever direction it chose to take me. I just hoped I was making the right decision for my baby.

I packed everything I could. All of my clothes fit into one suitcase and I brought my books and journals in another bag, but that was all I brought aside from two framed photographs. One was of me and my mother, the other a much newer addition of me, Shaina, and Chester. It wasn't much, but it would make this new house feel more like a home.

The morning sickness and my anxiety about the trip made the flight to Myrtle Beach worse than I would've liked. It became more apparent the effect the Xanax I'd taken before flying to London had on me. I almost wish I'd had one then, but I probably wouldn't have been able to take it anyway.

A woman seated near the back switched seats with me so that I could be closer to the bathroom and wouldn't have to move as far and I made sure to buy her lunch when we got to the airport in Myrtle Beach. I found out her name was Mary-Jean and she was going to visit her three grandchildren, who she told me all about over burgers and fries which I had an incredibly strong craving for.

When she asked why I was down here, I wasn't sure what to say at first. It wasn't like it was obvious yet that I was showing, but she gave me a knowing look when I'd been making my way to and from the bathroom on the plane. I ended up telling her, only explaining that the father wasn't in the picture and I was here for a fresh start. We parted ways when we were done, but not after exchanging numbers. She insisted on checking in on me to make sure I was doing alright throughout the pregnancy. Who was I to turn down an offer like that?

I eventually found my way to the beach house. Shaina had given me the address, so I hailed a cab -- a much easier feat than it was back home -- and relaxed the whole 25 minute drive, making light conversation, but mostly enjoying the scenery.

The sky was a clear bright blue, hardly a cloud in the sky, and the sun slowly falling off to the west as the afternoon drew to a close. I had always wanted to go to the beach. Whenever I saw it in movies, I'd feel an insane urge to pack my bags and go, but we never had the money or the means to get there, so I lived vicariously through our television screen.

Now I was here, alone. That hadn't been the initial plan, but things change. People change.

"Here we are," the driver said, catching my attention and breaking the focus I'd had on the passing houses. They were all so colorful and put together differently than the one right next door, a huge change from the city skyline I was so used to.

The house that the cab pulled in front of was a peachy-cream color, two stories with plenty of windows and what looked like plenty of rooms as well. I paid the driver and began to get out when I heard his voice again.

"Do you need any help?"

"No, I should be okay," I responded, giving him a warm smile and sliding him a few more dollars. "Thank you so much for the ride."

As soon as I stepped out of the car, I was greeted by the low hum of seagulls and the buzz of the ocean waters nearby. The air smelt of it too and I took in a deep breath, wanting to drink it all in. I grabbed my suitcase and the bag with my books and notebooks, slinging the latter over top of the suitcase so I could roll it up to the steps leading to the front door.

Once I'd reached the patio that wrapped around the whole first level of the house, I noticed that the beach was right on the opposite side, making it my new backyard. It was completely bare of any life and I took note of the houses spread further apart. Shaina wasn't joking when she said it was tucked away from people.

It was perfect.

I had brief interactions with the clerks at the grocery store and I'd found a doctor to do my prenatal check-ups with, but otherwise, I mostly kept to myself, either inside the house or on the beach. It took some getting used to, but it was nice not to have any obligations for once in my life. No work, no one to look after except for myself and the little one inside of me. I'd been working practically nonstop since I was 16 years old, so not needing to be anywhere was a good kind of strange, one I could get used to. I didn't know how long I would be here, but at the very least, it would be a much needed vacation.

The quiet gave me time to write. I was able to start tweaking the story I had been putting off finishing for years. I figured that if Shaina was going to refuse to let me work, it was the least I could do to remain productive and not go stir-crazy.

It was two months before I really met anybody down there.

I heard a knock on the door, one that caught me completely off guard. I hadn't been expecting company. Hell, the only person I knew by name was my doctor and she didn't make house calls.

Once I pushed myself up out of the chair, making sure not to hit my now slightly protruding belly against the desk in the office, I made my way to the door where the knocking persisted, now following along to a beat of a song, though the tune wasn't familiar.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" I called, a hint of irritation at the racket coming through my tone despite my efforts to keep it at bay. I felt things a lot quicker and a lot more intense these days. Thank you, hormones.

I pulled open the door enough to stick my head out, half expecting to see someone from back home on my doorstep. Instead, there stood a tall boy with nearly shoulder length dirty blond hair, flashing a smile that faltered when he noticed me.

"Oh shit. You're not Shaina," he said, blue eyes wide.

I couldn't help but laugh at the shocked expression. "Well, you're not wrong."

"Sorry, ma’am. I didn't mean to, uh..." He trailed off, the look of confusion on his face only growing along with the compulsion to ask questions, judging by his furrowed brows. "I don't have the wrong house, right? The Hartleys didn't sell this place, did they?"

"No, they didn't," I assured him, opening the door a little more so there wasn't as much of a barrier between us. He seemed nice enough, and he clearly knew Shaina. How bad could he be? "They're letting me stay here for awhile though."

"Oh good. I thought I was gonna have to call the cops on a squatter," he laughed, the sound trailing when he noticed my belly. He brought his eyes back up to me and his smile grew, sticking his hand out. "I'm Owen. I live next door. Well, as close as you can get to next door down here."

"It's nice to meet you, Owen," I responded, taking his hand and giving it a shake. "I'm Mikayla."

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he insisted, biting his lip. “Are you by yourself?”

“I am, yeah. Shaina’s got school, otherwise I can guarantee you she’d be down here making sure I don’t do anything stupid,” I chuckled low, resting my head against the door. “Are you two close?”

"Kinda. We went to school together briefly in Greenville until she moved back up north. Then I moved here, so we hang whenever she’s around. I, uh. I had come over to bother her since I thought you were her in the window, but I don't wanna keep you from something if you're busy," he spoke, a sheepish look coming to his face. He seemed embarrassed for having interrupted me, which was sweet, all things considered.

"No, it's okay," I assured him, my smile growing as I brushed some hair back behind my ear. "I wasn't really doing anything. I'm at a bit of a road block in my writing, so a break might be helpful."

"You a writer then? That's awesome. Bet the beach is a good place to get the creative juices flowing,” he laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Well, since we're gonna be neighbors for a while and you need a brain break, why don't we go get some lunch and we can get to know each other? Maybe show you around town, if you haven’t gotten the chance to yet."

My first instinct was to be hesitant. The last two people I had let into my life both ended up keeping secrets from me or lying and only one of them had a legitimate reason for it. My trust for people had already been in short supply before that, but it had dwindled even more in the past few months because of everything with Harry. But Owen seemed nice, and I hadn't really had much social interaction since I'd moved in. What could one meal hurt?

"Okay. You can come in, I have to go get changed. I can't exactly go out in my pjs," I chuckled, stepping out of the way to let him inside.

"You totally could. Everything's really chill around here, so nobody would think twice about it," he said as he stepped inside, threading his fingers through his hair.

"Let me rephrase: I don't want to go out in my pjs," I amended with a smile. "Give me ten minutes and I'll be ready to go."

"Aye aye, cap'n," he replied, giving me a salute.

I shook my head with a laugh before heading towards the bedroom. I had some maternity clothes by now, but considering I rarely left the house these days, I didn't have much. I still had more shopping I needed to do, but I'd save that for another time. I changed into a floral sundress, deciding to make it easier on myself than having to wiggle into jeans that I wouldn't be able to button, and let down my hair into its natural curly state. I slipped on sandals and grabbed my purse before heading back to the foyer.

I found Owen sitting on the couch in the living room, having made himself at home. He was checking his phone and I almost didn't want to interrupt so I could observe him, uninhibited. There was something about him that struck me as familiar, but I couldn’t place it immediately. Maybe it was the hair and the shape of his face that bore a slight resemblance to Harry’s, or maybe I was making connections where there weren’t any. That seemed the more likely possibility.

Clearing my throat seemed to catch his attention and he shot back up, grin in place and phone tucked away. "All ready?"

"All ready," I repeated with a nod.

"Let's get going." He held the door for me and I locked it before we set off down the road.

“Where to first?” I asked, glancing up towards him.

“My place. We’ll get my car, then we’ll head into town,” he explained.

I raised a brow, smiling some. “I can walk, you know.”

“Yeah, but… I couldn’t help but notice…” He trailed off, motioning towards my belly. “I don’t wanna push you into early labor or something.”

“I really don’t think that’s something you have to worry about this early on,” I commented, my hand instinctively slipping up to rest on the bump. “Besides, I walk a lot to get groceries and things like that.”

“Still wouldn’t feel right forcing you to walk all around town,” he said with a nod.

I shrugged and slipped my bag further onto my shoulder. I wouldn’t argue it. At least he was being considerate. “If you insist.”

“I do,” he chuckled, grinning. “You said you’re all by yourself though, right? What happened to the dad?”

I stayed quiet for a moment, considering if I should open up about it. Owen would be around for awhile, for as long as I intended to stay here, so eventually he would find out. Biting my lip, I shrugged again. “Long story.”

“Ah. Got it, don’t ask about the dad.” He waved his fingers in the air as if writing a note out to himself before tucking the imaginary pencil back into his pocket.

“Eventually we’ll talk about it. Just not something I want to dwell on today,” I explained, though he quickly waved his hand dismissively.

“Don’t even worry about it. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t wanna tell me,” he assured me. “Just know if you need any help at all, like you need to get a ride to your appointments or someone to put a crib together or something, I’ll be around to help.”

I smiled, nodding slowly in acknowledgement before looking forward again. Not having the pressure of admitting all of my life’s secrets to him right away was nice. It seemed like most people nowadays wanted to get to know every single detail about you the moment you met and that was always overwhelming. So far, I felt at ease around him. I only hoped it continued that way.

Though we only intended to be out for a few hours, his Jeep didn’t pull into the driveway of my house until the sun had long since set. We’d had too much fun walking along the boardwalk and playing games in the Fun Plaza and arcade that we’d lost track of time. I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened, but being so carefree and relaxed certainly helped to wipe away any tension that I may have had in regards to letting him in. I could see now why he and Shaina were friends.

"Thank you so much for tonight," I commented softly, looking over towards him as he shut the car off in the driveway.

"I should be thanking you for letting me witness that killer throw you've got going on," he laughed, motioning to the large stuffed bear in the back seat. "Gonna keep that for the peanut?"

"Peanut? I like that," I said, smiling, and nodded to answer him. "Not like I'd have much use for it myself. She'd like it more."

"It's a girl?" Owen's face lit up.

I nodded again. "Found out last week. Still haven't told Shaina though, so keep it to yourself."

"Secret's safe with me." He mimed zipping his lips, locking them, and tossing the key over his shoulder before laughing again.

His laugh was infectious and I found myself doing the same, though it slowly died off as we looked at each other. He reached a hand over and brushed the loose hairs out of my face and behind my ear, the light touch causing me to swallow hard and glance away.

"I had fun tonight," he spoke, finally breaking the silence.

"I did too," I replied, looking up at him again to notice he'd shifted closer.

"Would this be considered a date?"

I knew there had to be a catch. "Owen, I..."

My voice trailed, trying to figure out how to word what I wanted to say. He was handsome and he was sweet, but I hardly knew him and I certainly wasn't ready to move into something so quickly. I didn't want it to seem like it was him. I had come down here to find myself and get my life together. Tossing myself into the relationship arena again and trying to seek his validation was the last thing I needed to do.

"I'm not... I'm not really looking for anything like that right now," I explained, voice low. I hoped he wouldn't be upset, but I was expecting the worst.

"Got it," he said. "Friend date, then?"

I smiled softly at him, nodding. He took it better than I thought he would. "Friend date sounds better."

"Well, a good friend date always walks his friend date to the door," he chuckled, slipping out of the car.

He made his way around to my side and pulled open the door before I could, offering a hand to help me down from where I sat, which I gladly took. He led me up the walkway, bear in his arms, walking carefully and making sure my path was cleared.

Once at the door, he faced me and smiled. "I'll see you again soon?"

"I'd like that," I responded, pulling my keys from my purse to unlock the front door.

"What about breakfast tomorrow?"

"Only if you're making it," I teased, but he grinned and accepted the condition nonetheless before we said our goodbyes.

We spent months like this. We saw each other almost every day, the only times he wasn't able to stop by being when he had to work long hours, but even then he'd be sure to leave something on the patio for me and check up on me through text. He took me to my appointments and held my hand the whole time so I wouldn't be afraid of hearing bad news, the promise of gorging ourselves on pizza afterwards another reason he'd give for getting through it.

Shaina and Chester came to visit for the holidays and he spent it with the three of us as well. It seemed like he belonged right there with us, like he was a part of the family, and I felt like I was important to someone again, but without the underlying worry that he was only in it for sex. I did worry that he was only offering to help because of the baby, but he had no obligations to be there for the two of us. It wasn't like she was his child.

Delilah Adeline Beaumont was born on April 9th of the following year. She was born with a full, thick head of hair, a button nose, and a temperament that would make most new mothers jealous. As terrified as I was of being a mother, she made it easier. I never knew I could love someone as much as I loved her, but when that little girl stared up at me, all I could see was how incredible she was.

Owen still helped me with her in the months after she was born. I told him he could leave whenever he wanted, but he insisted he would stick around and wouldn't let me do it alone. He babysat when I needed a break and still somehow managed to be as energetic as always. I admired him for it.

Owen's presence did make me think of Harry, in some ways. Not the person he turned out to be, but the one that I believed he was or could have been for me. He never kept in constant communication the way Owen did and it always seemed like a burden to him to even send a simple text in response to mine most days. Maybe that made me needy or high maintenance, but it was what I needed at the time to remain secure in the fact that he cared about me. Perhaps that alone could've been a red flag.

Despite all of the bad, though, I missed him. I missed waking up to the the feeling of his arms around me in the morning, the way he laughed when he found something so incredibly hilarious he couldn't hold it in any longer, how he'd grin from ear to ear whenever I laughed at his jokes. Gemma said he looked at me like I hung the sun in the sky, but all I could think of was how I must have looked at him the same way.

It had been over a year since I'd last seen him, since he'd last tried to call or contact me in any way. I assumed that he had forgotten about me, moved on with his life like he'd intended, but I couldn't seem to forget him. I wished there was a way to erase all the little details about someone when they walk out of your life. I wondered if he had ever opened that tattoo shop with Niall, if he had been able to go back home to visit his mom and Robin for the holidays, or if he was curled up on the couch watching Love Actually.

It was Christmas Eve. Delilah was playing with her toys in the living room while A Muppets Christmas Carol played on the television. I had been in the middle of hanging up a few last minute decorations when I heard a knock on the door.

"Lilah, Uncle Owen's heeere," I cooed, my smile widening as I looked over at her, catching her attention. Lilah crawled over to my feet and I picked her up, brushing her loose brown curls out of her eyes. "Wanna go say hi with me?"

I carried her over towards the door, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek before pulling open the door. The last thing I had expected to see on my doorstep was Harry staring back at me with those familiar, haunting green eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's baaack :)
> 
> The picture at the top is what Delilah would look like. Isn't she precious?
> 
> I know this chapter's a bit slow, but with the ending, the next chapter is bound to be interesting, wouldn't you say?
> 
> What do you think of Owen? Does he seem like the type of person that Mikayla needs around?
> 
> Thank you to everyone who took the time to vote for me in the awards I was nominated for. I didn't win, but I did get honorable mention, which is still pretty awesome.


	22. Tell Her You Love Her

I was frozen in place, eyes wide as I stared at the man in front of me in disbelief. This wasn't him, not the Harry I knew. He looked so different. His hair was now long enough to spill across his shoulders and embrace his neck, there was what looked like stubble pebbling his jaw, and his upper body was more toned and adorned with more tattoos and less fancy clothing, a simple white t-shirt and black jeans taking the place of the button downs I had gotten so used to before.

For a split second, I fooled myself into believing that this was a figment of my imagination, a trick my eyes were playing on me. There was no way that Harry was standing in front of me after nearly a year and a half of no contact. That couldn't be possible. He'd forgotten about me, moved on with his life, and acted like nothing ever happened.

'He isn't really here,' I thought to myself. 'I'm dreaming.'

I blinked hard a few times, but each time I opened my eyes again, he was still there, silent. Was he observing me? Why wasn't he saying anything?

Better yet, how did he even find me? The only people who knew where I was were mom, Chester, and Shaina. Harry didn't know any of them. At least, not to my knowledge.

My question was answered as I heard the tapping of shoes against the stone sidewalk leading to the patio. Looking past Harry's shoulders, I saw Shaina darting up the steps with her bag in hand and heaving a sigh when she finally reached the top.

"You were supposed to wait," she grumbled, her words catching Harry's attention and thankfully pulling his gaze away from me and Delilah.

"Sorry, I... I had to see her," he spoke, his voice as deep as I remembered and sending a shiver down my spine.

I still hadn't fully comprehended what was unfolding before me or pieced together how --or why -- Shaina and Harry were acting like they knew each other. The emotions building up in me were unmistakeable though: a combination of anxiousness, heartache, and most of all, rage.

"What the hell is he doing here?" I finally spoke. If looks could kill, there was no doubt Shaina would be a pile of ashes on the ground in that instant.

"Mikki, I can explain everything, just give me a second before you--"

"I don't want him here. He's not welcome in my home."

"It's our house, actually," she corrected me, brows furrowed as she looked at me incredulously. "Watch the attitude, Mikayla."

"I don't have to do anything when you bring the one person in the world I didn't want to see ever again right to my door step," I bit back.

"I... I'll just go. Somewhere. Anywhere. Over there." Harry motioned to the other side of the patio, then walked away quickly.

Shaina watched Harry for a minute before looking to me again, frustration clear in her face. "See what you did?"

"What I did? This is a joke, right?" I laughed bitterly. "I didn't do anything. I was minding my own business, waiting for my family to arrive to spend Christmas with me, and I open the door to find him. What the fu--hell did you expect, Shaina?"

"Now now," Chester's soothing voice cut through the tension like a knife. He slipped past Shaina and plucked Delilah from my arms, propping her onto his waist. "Let me take my granddaughter, she doesn't need to hear any of this. You two, separate corners until you cool down enough to talk like adults."

I huffed and then stormed off into the house, heading to my bedroom. What nerve. Who did Shaina think she was, bringing Harry here? And during the holidays, no less. I had been looking forward to seeing them again since the last time Shaina came down by herself over the summer, but this put a damper on the whole evening.

I don't know what she had expected to happen when I saw him. What was I supposed to do? Accept the fact that he was here with open arms and forgive him like nothing happened? Melt into a pile of lovey dovey mush because my first love was here to see me again after so long?

If there was one thing over the past year that I learned it was that I had every right to be upset with him for what he did to me. I had spent so long feeling like I wasn't justified in my anger with him because of the nature of our relationship. I'd felt guilty, like I'd brought it all upon myself for involving myself with him in the first place. No, it wasn't an honest relationship. Yes, I had a part to play in all of it too. I took responsibility for my part in it and was still trying to figure out a way to pay penance for it. That didn't change the fact that he lied to me and broke promises, breaking any trust I had in him and in what we could have been.

It took about half an hour for the anger to subside, but the hurt was still there. The rush of everything I'd pushed aside when I came here flooding back into my consciousness was overwhelming. My chest was tight and I cradled my head in my hands, trying to work through the emotions with deep breaths in.

I heard a knock on the door, but I didn't answer. The door opened a few moments later and I sighed, quickly swiping my hands beneath my eyes to catch any stray tears that may have fallen before the intruder could see. "What?"

"I was expecting a party, but everyone seems to be bumming out right now," Owen said, closing the door behind him.

"Sorry about that," I replied quietly, sniffling and returning my head to my hands.

The bed sunk down beside me as Owen took his seat and I felt his hand trace over my back in slow circles. "Wanna tell me what's going on or is it better not to ask?"

"You'll find out anyway," I sighed once more. "Harry's here."

"Who?"

"Delilah's dad. He's here. Shaina brought him."

Silence. In the time we'd known each other, I'd only mentioned my situation in vague references. I'd never told him Harry's name, my old job, how we met, or how things played out. I didn't want him to think of me differently, but that was all going to change.

"Want me to beat him up?"

I couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "No. I don't know what I want to happen. I wasn't expecting to see him again, but now he's here and... And I don't even know how or why."

"Shaina didn't tell you?" Owen asked, his curiosity evident.

"I didn't give her a chance," I admitted. "I got mad and I snapped. Dad separated us until we could speak civilly. Guess this is what having siblings is like."

"I could've told you that," he chuckled. "4 brothers and 2 sisters led to lots of arguments in the Langley household."

His hand slipped to my shoulder and he pulled me into his side, arm holding me close. My head found its way to his shoulder and I closed my eyes. We would sit like this often. It helped me relax. I think Owen knew that, even though I never said anything. He always seemed to get me.

"What should I do, Owen?" I asked. My voice was soft, desperate.

"Maybe seeing why Shaina brought him down in the first place would be a good start. She probably had a good reason for it. She's smart like that." He always spoke so fondly of her. If I weren't still upset with her, I'd agree.

"Do I have to?" I whined, frowning.

"Yes you have to," he responded, mimicking my whine before pulling me up from the bed, arm still around my shoulder. "The problem's not going anywhere. You may as well try to solve it while you have the chance."

I knew he was right. Harry was outside whether I liked it or not and he wasn't going anywhere until Shaina and Chester left. I wasn't going to let his presence ruin Delilah's first Christmas.

Owen led me back to the main part of the house. Chester was letting Delilah ride on his back like a horse in the living room and Shaina was sitting at the breakfast nook in the kitchen, hands clasped around a mug of something warm, but Harry was nowhere in sight. I chanced a look out the window and noticed the back of his head, seeing him seated on the back porch, overlooking the dark waters.

"Shaina, Mikayla has something she'd like to say to you," Owen said, pushing me towards my sister.

I sighed and looked back over to her, then down at my feet. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"It's okay," she replied, biting her lip. "Can we talk? Alone?"

I was afraid where this would go, but I was going to do what Owen said I should and confront the problem head on rather than try to avoid the inevitable. Nodding, I followed along with her towards the dining room that was all set for Christmas Eve dinner. We stopped and stood in silence for a few moments, waiting for the other to speak first.

Finally, Shaina dared to break the silence. "Do you hate me?"

"Honestly? A little bit, yeah," I mumbled, arms crossed over my chest.

"I didn't want you to be mad. He wasn't supposed to be the one at the door," she sighed.

"That doesn't make him being here at all any better," I commented, lips pursed. "Why did you bring him? And why didn't you tell me so I could've prepared myself?"

"I knew you'd refuse to see him if I did tell you," she began. "I don't know how he found out we were related -- I think maybe Dory told him -- but he showed up at the apartment one day asking if you were there. I told him that you left and why and... I don't know. He looked so desperate, I couldn't turn him away."

"Well, maybe you should have tried a little harder." I frowned.

"I couldn't help it. He deserved to know he has a daughter," she retorted, brows knitted together.

"No he doesn't!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in frustration. "He doesn't deserve anything. I owe him nothing. He and I were nothing, he made that pretty clear the day I ended things. It wasn't even your right to tell him, Shaina."

"Don't turn into your mother." Those words caused my breath to hitch in my throat. "You're doing exactly what she did with you, trying to keep dad away. Delilah needs her father. Don't deny her that when he so desperately wants to be there for the both of you."

I paused, jaw clenched. There was no way she was comparing our situations. Chester hadn't done anything to hurt mom when she decided to cut all ties and run away. Harry had lied to me and used me for his own physical pleasure, not once taking my feelings into consideration after he'd gotten what he wanted. Now he was here and wanting to be a part of my daughter's life when she's been perfectly fine without him for the eight months she's been alive?

"She has Owen for that." My response was quiet, but firm. I didn't want to budge, especially not after that remark.

"Owen's not her father and you can't expect him to always be there for her like he is now. Someday, he's going to marry someone and they're going to have their own kids to take care of, and Delilah deserves to have more than a secondhand, pseudo-father figure in her life." Shaina huffed. "Look, you can hate me all you want, but at least go talk to him. You can't ignore him forever."

"I don't know, I was doing a pretty great job at it up until now," I replied, glancing out the window towards the patio once more. He was seated in one of the wicker chairs, the porch light illuminating his face as he sat silently, waiting. Part of me wondered if he could hear our argument, but the petty part of me didn't care and hoped he did.

"He came all this way to see you and be here for her. If that doesn't say something in itself, then I don't know what will." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You owe it to your daughter to at least give him a chance to prove himself. Go talk to him."

“What do I even say to him?” I asked, turning back to her. “How am I supposed to face the man I loved -- the one who hurt me -- and not fall apart all over again? I don’t…” My voice trailed off and I covered up the sound of it cracking with clearing my throat, averting my watery gaze. “I don’t know how to do this, Shaina.”

I felt her hand move to my shoulder in some attempt to console me. “I don’t know either, but it’s okay if you do. He needs to know how what he did affected you so he can try to make up for it.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” I admitted, biting my lip. “But you’re right… Maybe he can do right by Delilah.”

“We can only hope.” With a small squeeze, Shaina left me alone in the dining room where I stood for many more moments, trying to collect myself. Swallowing hard, I pulled open the door that led out to the patio and stepped outside.

The sound of the door opening must have caught his attention because he was looking at me by the time I made my way towards where he sat. I slowed to a stop a few feet away from the empty chair beside him, unsure if I should take it. I didn’t know if I could be that close to him again this soon.

There was silence, the sound of the waves caressing the shore soothing my nerves as I worked up the courage to say something -- anything. The breeze sent a chill through me and I wrapped my arms around my torso, looking him over more than I had when we were at the front door. He would be 23 soon and the year and a half I had missed was evident in his face. He seemed older, more tired, his eyes holding even more than they had when I first met him. He always did have an old soul.

I could tell he was waiting for me to initiate the conversation, allowing me the opportunity to say what I needed to say. I appreciated that, at the very least. If only I could figure out what that was.

“You look good,” I whispered, clearing my throat to rid it of the lump that had formed there, preventing me from speaking up.

He smiled a bit, shaking his head. “You don’t have to lie, it’s okay. I know I look horrid.”

“I’ve never lied to you. I never had a reason to. That was more your speed,” I quickly replied. My shoulders had tensed and my instinct was to immediately go on the defensive, but I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, attempting to be calm.

He stayed quiet, looking down at his clasped hands and nodding slowly. I noticed the lack of ring on his finger, but that hadn’t meant anything before. “I deserved that.”

“You deserve a lot more than that, but I’m trying to be a better person.”

“I know I do. And you’ve every right to have reacted the way you did earlier,” he responded, bringing his green eyes up to meet mine once more. “Even if you had known I was coming, which I thought you did, I wouldn’t have expected a warm welcome.”

I watched him, the way he was hunched over with his elbows pressing into the tops of his thighs. He was bent over in a way that showed he was submitting to me, giving me the opportunity to bring him even further into the ground than he already was, if I chose to.

As much as I wanted to yell and scream at him for everything, to open up the floodgates and allow what I’d never had the chance to say until now flow out of me, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The urge to run from my problem yet again hit, but I had nowhere I could go. I knew I had to face this. There was nothing more I could do.

I took a seat in the chair next to his, the creak of the wicker filling the air along with the symphony of crickets and the sea shore. He seemed surprised that I had even stepped as close as I did, and I had to admit I was surprised with myself. I didn’t want the power he was giving me.

“Why couldn’t you be honest with me?” I asked, words almost swallowed up by the noises around us. I needed to know the answer. I knew it wouldn’t change anything, but I needed to know why he didn’t choose me so I could stop keeping myself up during the night. “Why couldn’t you tell me you weren’t ready to leave her?”

“I was ready,” he began, looking at me. “I just wasn’t able to yet.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Did Gem tell you about what happened to mum?” he asked. I nodded slowly, then he continued. “I was on the verge of being suicidal at that point. I thought if I lost her, then there’d… there’d not be much point in me doing anything, so why be around at all, y’know?” Licking his lips, he looked down again. “Jas was the only good thing in my life at that point. She helped get me out of the house, pushed me to keep my grades up, made sure I took care of myself when I didn’t wanna do anything but sleep all day. I realise now it was all done because she wanted some sort of trophy to parade around, but at the time, I thought she did it out of love. I felt I owed my life to her. So, I did whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. I left behind everything so she could be closer to her family, I gave up on my dream of opening a tattoo shop in London to work in a subpar one in the middle of New York City, and let her decide who I spent time with, where we’d spend our money, everything. I was comfortable letting her make the decisions in my life because I didn’t feel like I would make the best ones for myself.”

I stayed quiet, listening as he explained everything. Gemma had said that he’d been in a bad place, but I had no idea it had gotten to that point of hopelessness. I tried to think of what my life would be like without him in it, if I had never met him, and though I’d wished it in anger many times throughout the past few months, he was ultimately the catalyst that brought me here to South Carolina where I became what I hoped was a better version of myself. He also was the reason I had Delilah. For all the pain he caused, I would never trade those two things for never being able to meet him at all.

“The first few months after the move were rough. Got to a point I had to go to the doctor and I was put onto some medications to help with my depression and anxieties.” That explained the Xanax at the airport. “They helped, but they also put me on an even keel to the point where I didn’t feel anything either way, like I was in a fog. Seemed like no matter what I did, I couldn’t feel like myself anymore. I was looking for myself when I found you. You helped me feel like me again for the first time in… Years.”

Closing my eyes, I took in a deep breath and tried to keep myself from reacting. I wanted to pull him in and hold him, to tell him it was alright and that I understood now, but I couldn’t. I sniffled a bit, quickly swiping my hand beneath my eyes, but I felt his thumb brush against my cheek to brush off a few tears that I’d missed, forcing myself to look at him again.

“You showed me the steps I needed to take in order to bring myself back and you leaving was what it took for me to take control of my life again. I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough for that.”

When we first started, I wanted to be able to save him and I thought that maybe he could save me too. It took me this long to figure out that that wasn’t possible. Nobody should have to be in a position to save another person when they weren’t able to do that for themselves. We’d both grown in our time apart, learned from our mistakes, and became who we are today. Now here we were, two years down the line, and we’d both managed to find ourselves on our own. We saved ourselves and life was bringing us back together again when we were two whole people instead of broken souls desperate for an escape. Maybe this was a sign.

“You don’t have to thank me,” I finally spoke, voice quivering with the force of my exhale. “You did that all on your own. I’m proud of you.” I reached up to move his hand from my face and lowered it, not wanting to fall so easily back into what we had. I still held onto it gently, giving it a light squeeze as I stared down at them. “I’m sorry for… for putting so much pressure on you to fix me. If I had known I--”

“No, shh. S’not your fault,” he replied, shaking his head.

His other hand came around and rested on top of mine, enveloping it in a safe cocoon from the night breeze. I closed my eyes and let silence fall over us again. We sat like this for awhile and the tension eased its way out of my frame, feeling at ease for the first time since they’d all arrived.

“Mikayla?” he spoke up.

Opening my eyes, I looked at him once more. “Yeah?”

"I love you. I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner.”

My heart stopped in my chest. “W-what?”

“I love you. I was too scared to say it before because that meant it made whatever we had and the consequences of it real, and I wasn't sure if I could leave the only thing I knew. And I know that's not a good excuse for what I did to you. I’m so sorry that I hurt you.” He paused, looking down to our entwined hands. “I don’t expect anything from telling you this. I don’t expect forgiveness, and you may not even feel the same way about me anymore as you did back then. All I want is to have the chance to be there for you... And for her. I can't offer you expensive or nice things like a house on the beach, not like he could. What I can promise is that there will always be food on the table and you two will always be cared for and loved. It's not a lot, but I hope it's enough."

It took me a moment to process what he was saying. He had never said he loved me throughout our relationship. He had called me love and he had said he cared about me, but those three words had never once passed his lips.

I didn’t know how to respond. I knew that I still loved him, deep down. I didn’t think I would ever stop loving him. The problem was that I didn’t trust him anymore. What is love without trust?

“Like who could give me?” I spoke after a moment, that particular point of his speech sticking out among the rest.

“The guy that…” He trailed off, brows furrowed in confusion when he noticed the small smile creeping onto my face. “What?”

“You mean Owen?”

“Is that his name?” He frowned.

“Owen and I aren’t together,” I laughed lightly.

The moment the words left me, he let out a sigh of relief, running his fingers through his long dark hair. “Well, that would’ve been nice to know before I poured my heart and soul out like an idiot.”

“It was cute,” I admitted, grin softening into a smile. I gave his hand a light squeeze, looking over his face for a moment. “I can’t… I can’t promise anything. I guess I should say I don’t want to promise anything that I’m not sure I can keep,” I amended, shaking my head. “But if you want to stay for a little bit and get to know her, you can. See if you’ve got what it takes to be a father.”

 

“I would like that a lot,” he replied, his smile growing to the point that that familiar dimple pressed into his cheek.

“Me too. Plus I’d feel a little bad about kicking you out on Christmas Eve without at least feeding you first,” I chuckled.

He joined in with his own laughter. “That would make you a pretty bad host.”

“You showed up uninvited, so technically, I wasn’t even supposed to host you,” I reminded him with a playful smile, standing from the chair and holding my hand out for his. “Come on. Let’s go inside before everything gets cold.”

He smiled and took my hand before standing, then we both walked back into the house and joined the others. There were still things we needed to discuss, but for now, we were okay. We weren’t together, but we also weren’t thousands of miles apart. We’d be able to spend Delilah’s first Christmas together as a family, and somehow, that was enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think the time apart did them some good, huh?
> 
> What do you guys think is going to happen from here? Are you sad that Mikayla didn't say she loved him back or do you think it was for the best right now? Do you see them getting back together or do you think Mikayla's going to stick to not wanting to be in a relationship for awhile? Do you think she made the right decision in letting him at least be there for their daughter?


	23. Sing For Me

Living under the same roof as Harry was strange, to say the least.

He, Shaina, and Chester all stayed through the New Year. I had hoped that mom would be able to come down and join us, but she called the day after Christmas to let me know she wouldn’t be able to make it down because of work. She always seemed to be working nowadays. I worried she would tire herself out, but I knew that she could tell what she could handle better than I could, especially from way down here.

We celebrated the ringing in of the New Year with a small bonfire and sparklers on the beach, watching the boardwalk fireworks shooting off over the water from a distance. He would barely let Delilah out of his grasp, holding onto her and sitting her on his lap to keep her from crawling towards the fire or the tide washing up on shore. Despite never having much experience with kids besides Lux, a fact he repeated over and over throughout the night after he'd had a few beers in him, he was doing incredibly well with her.

I tried not to show that I was impressed because I knew Shaina would rub it in, but I think she could tell by the way my eyes tended to linger on the two when they were together. A smile would always find its way to my face when I watched them. At this point, it was an instinct. I always smiled when it came to Delilah, even on the rough days when she'd be overly fussy, but seeing the way she so naturally melded with Harry added another level to it.

Having him there made me see that there were already so many similarities between the two, both physically and in their mannerisms. Though she had my brown eyes and nose, the bouncy curls and crinkly-eyed laugh were unmistakably his. She also had a tendency to jut out her bottom lip in a pout while thinking and the more time I spent around Harry, the more I noticed it in him too.

I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me think what life could've been like for us had we done things the right way. Would Harry and I still be together? Would we have our little family already or would we have waited until we were both ready for it? Would this be what life would be like from now on? Eventually, he would have to return home. He had obligations there. That left the question about whether or not I would ever move back to New York.

Once the holidays were over, he decided to stay a few extra weeks, wanting to spend as much time with Delilah as possible without others stealing her attention. Though I was hesitant about him being the only one staying, Owen assured me he'd check in every day to make sure he didn't try anything. I didn't think Harry would, but after his profession of love for me, I was uncertain about a lot of things, especially how I felt towards him.

I tried setting aside the hurt that I felt from before. It worked, for the most part, but I would still find myself being hesitant to trust him, especially when it came to promises he’d make about doing something as simple as the dishes after dinner. I wanted to trust that he was there for good, that he was all in, but it was hard to do that completely.

The house was quiet today. Owen had taken Delilah out to the park, which left me and Harry alone there. I had insisted on it, despite Owen being wary. In order to push all these preconceived notions out of my mind, I had to get to know the Harry sitting before me rather than the one I used to know. I could hardly do that with a 9 month old running around and getting into everything. It was relatively early in the morning so Harry was still asleep, which gave me some time to get breakfast ready and check my emails.

Almost as if on cue, I heard footsteps coming down the hall when I finished arranging the food onto the plates. Harry walked around the corner, curly hair tousled all about and eyes still droopy with sleep. He held a plain white t-shirt in his hand, leaving his chest completely bare, my breath catching in my throat at the familiar sight. He’d gotten more tattoos since I’d last seen him, the ends of his hair grazing lazily along the swallows below his collar bones.

I blushed, realizing that I had been staring, and averted my gaze to avoid further embarrassment. He seemed to notice as he quickly slid the shirt over his head and adjusted it around his torso. “Sorry,” he spoke, voice groggy and a chuckle slipping past his lips. “I, erm… I didn’t think you’d be in here.”

“Where’d you think I’d be?” I asked, chancing a look again, relieved he was now fully clothed.

“Your office. You’re usually there this early,” he remarked with a shrug.

I would often spend the early morning hours before Delilah woke up to have some time to myself, either to write or to revise my manuscript. Usually, he’d be the one up early to make breakfast for everyone, but that didn’t stop him from checking in on me once in awhile, bringing me tea and making sure I didn’t need anything. So far, he’d kept to his word that we would always be cared for -- I could only hope that would continue.

He ran his fingers through his hair and he looked over the plates of food, smiling. “You didn’t have to do that, I could’ve gotten it. I know you’ve got things to work on.”

“Well, today’s different,” I assured him with a soft smile of my own. He was trying so hard to make this work, it was the least I could do to try and return the favor, right? Grabbing two pairs of silverware from the drawer and picking up our plates, I looked out the window at the bright blue of the sky. “The weather’s nice today. Do you want to eat outside?”

“Yeah, I think that’d be good,” he replied, smile growing more. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Orange juice is in the door,” I called over my shoulder, already starting to make my way out towards the small table on the back patio.

It took a few trips to get everything settled onto the table, needing to grab some condiments and toppings that I’d pulled out before he woken up. We were settled there soon enough and though there was silence at first, it was a comfortable one, one that I hadn’t felt in awhile. Looking over, I watched him for a few moments as he layered a piece of toast with raspberry jam. I couldn’t help but smile softly, taking in every little thing about him like I used to do.

“What? Have I spilled something?” he asked, his words catching my attention.

“No,” I assured him, shaking my head. “Raspberry is Lilah’s favorite too, that’s all. Always wondered where she got it from.”

“Is it?” He looked at me again, grinning before nibbling on the corner of the bread. “She’s got good taste then.”

“I don’t know, I’m more of an apricot fan myself,” I chuckled, grabbing my glass and taking a sip. “Raspberry’s okay.”

“Okay? _Okay_? It’s delicious if made properly,” he said with a nod. “Mum used to make a ton when we were younger. I’ll have to see if she’ll be able to make you some. I’m sure you’d love it.”

“So passionate about your jam,” I teased. “I’d like that though, yeah. I miss her cooking.”

“I’m passionate about all breakfast foods,” he corrected me, letting out a chuckle. “I’d say you should make breakfast more often, but you’re letting me stay here for free, so I wouldn’t force you to do all that work.”

“It’s alright. I’ve done it for awhile now, so I’m used to it,” I explained, waving my hand dismissively. “It is nice not to have to do it every day though, so thank you.”

“No need,” he said, smiling. “I am wondering why you decided to do it today though.”

“It’s a good day,” I started, shrugging. “I mean, I finished revising my book last night, it’s beautiful out, we’re kidless for a few hours. I just thought maybe we’d be able to… to catch up.”

I could tell that what I said caught him off guard, but after a moment of processing it, his face lit up slowly. “We have changed quite a bit, haven’t we? May as well reacquaint ourselves. Where should we start?”

“How have things been with you? Any changes?” I asked, nervously biting down on my bottom lip.

I wanted to know what had happened after I left between him and Jasmine, mostly, but I didn’t want to outright say it. I assumed since he’d been down here for nearly a month now that it meant things back home might not be the most inviting things to return to, and my nosy self wanted to be let in on it all.

“A few things, yeah,” he chuckled, wiping the edges of his lips with a napkin and setting it down on the table before settling back in his chair. “Officially a divorcee as of this past June. Don’t have much to my name anymore, considering how the relationship ended,” he admitted, shrugging. “I moved in with Niall and Gem, but obviously it’s not permanent. Sure they’d like to be able to not worry about their brother being around at all times.”

“They finally moved over?” I’d known the two had intended on moving to the city at some point, but I didn’t think it’d be as soon as it was. I guess it was a good thing though, if it meant he had a place to stay.

“Yeah, right around the time things…” He trailed off, frowning. “It’s one reason I hadn’t been keeping in contact as much. I’d been helping them unpack and get settled.”

I stayed quiet for a few moments before nodding, acknowledging that I’d heard what he’d said. I hadn’t given him the chance to explain his lack of communication in the weeks leading up to our end. In all honesty, I still wasn’t fully convinced that it was a good excuse not to return any texts or calls, especially when it was so easy to send a message saying he was busy and he’d talk to me when he had time. Had he told me, I would have even offered to help them with moving, but knowing that he hadn’t been secretly spending most of that time with Jasmine made me feel a little better.

“You said you finished your book? Is this the same one you were writing a while ago?” he asked, taking a sip of his tea and leaning back in the chair, eyes lingering on me.

His question caught my attention again and I looked over to him, soft smile coming to my face. “Yeah, it is. Being away from, well… everything and everyone, I had lots of time to myself. Officially finished as of last night, but now I have to figure out what to do with it.”

“Are you gonna send it out to publishers?”

I paused, thinking it over for a moment. Being published had always been my dream since I discovered my love of writing. To become a well-known author and be able to do what I loved and be paid for it, being able to leave the life I knew behind and afford to take care of my family. As I grew older, though, and when my life took the twists and turns it did, that dream began to change. I didn’t want people to know who I was or what I did before all of this. I was ashamed of who I used to be, even though it all led up to who I am today. I still wasn’t completely happy with myself, but with the way culture was nowadays, I was certain it would only be a matter of time before my past was pulled up and used against me.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, swallowing hard. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe what had just left my mouth. “You’ve spent so long working on this story, and you’re not going to at least attempt to share it with the world?”

“It’s complicated,” I laughed quietly, looking over to him again. “You haven’t even read it. For all you know, it could be absolutely terrible and you’d want me to face rejection repeatedly.”

“Knowing you, you wouldn’t let it be terrible. You’re always giving everything your all. Even if the storyline was rubbish, you’d manage to make it beautiful.”

Shaking my head, I looked away again, down towards my hands as I picked at my nail beds nervously. “You speak so highly of me, even after everything.”

“Because I think you’re incredible,” he replied quickly, softly. “In every single thing you do. You’re one of the few things in my life that I got right.”

There was a silence shared between us and after a few moments, I picked my head up to look towards him again, finding his green eyes trained on me, unwavering. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to accept the compliment, but I knew it came from a place that we no longer resided in. So instead, I remained quiet, offering up a ghost of a smile before looking down again.

“Well… At least let me take you out somewhere, to celebrate,” he cleared his throat, leaning forward in hopes of catching my attention, which he did.

“Do you have the money to do that?” I asked. I didn’t mean to sound disparaging, but he had told me only minutes ago that he’d lost practically everything in the divorce and I didn’t want him to be spending unnecessary amounts of money on me for something I wasn’t even sure I wanted to celebrate.

“I’ve got enough. It can just be frozen yogurt, in all honesty. Just let me do something.” His look was one of begging, brows raised as he looked for any signs of an answer. “Please?”

“Okay. But _only_ frozen yogurt, nothing else. Got it?” I warned him with a pointed finger.

His face lit up and I couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer excitement written across his features at the mere acceptance of his offer. I didn’t see why it made him as happy as it did. Maybe he had a huge love for frozen yogurt that I had only just discovered, or perhaps it was the concept of the two of us going out together somewhere, alone.This was probably the closest thing to a date that he’d get for a long time, if ever again.

Leaning across the table, he placed a quick peck to my cheek before settling back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. “I saw this one shop near the pizza parlor, I wanted to stop in there. Looked cute enough.”

“Whatever makes you happy, Harry,” I chuckled, shaking my head. “As long as they’ve got mango flavor. Otherwise, you owe me.”

Laughing, Harry swiped the tip of his finger in an x-shape over his heart then held his hands up like he was swearing on a Bible in court. “I swear on my honour, if they haven’t got mango, we can go elsewhere.”

We continued talking for a little while longer, the conversation coming out with much more ease now that he’d had this time for us. It felt almost like it did back in London, both of us relaxed and able to be openly ourselves. We reminisced and, in all honesty, it made me miss him even more than I had before despite the fact that he was right there across from me.

I knew that I didn’t need a relationship to complete me, but there had always been something about him that drew me in from day one. He was electric. There was a magnetic quality about him that drew me in and I wanted to allow myself to do just that, but I couldn’t. Delilah was my focus. I was okay with letting him back in for her, but was I okay with doing the same for me?

Owen returned with Delilah asleep in his arms and I took her to the nursery to let her nap while the boys talked. Owen had already done his job of interrogating Harry, but they seemed to get along well enough for him to set aside whatever protective instincts he had and become buddy buddy with the father of my child. That didn’t stop him from constantly checking in and making sure he wasn’t pressuring me into moving forward with whatever agenda he had behind admitting his feelings, as Owen liked to put it.

I didn’t see it as Harry having an agenda so much as feelings long since overdue being revealed. He’d still let the words slip out every now and then when we wished each other goodnight. He’d always apologize after, quickly catching himself in it, and I’d always reassure him that it was fine, but it made it harder to resist saying it back. I wanted to because it was the truth -- I did love him still, but that didn’t mean I was ready for us again.

Once Delilah was awake, the four of us headed out to the frozen yogurt store in question. Owen decided he was going to tag along when Harry revealed our plans, poking fun at me for not having told me that the book was all done. He’d been the only person aside from Daphne that I’d shown pieces of my story to in the past and he’d been one of my biggest supporters throughout the writing process when I started it back up, so of course I wanted him there to celebrate, even if it was something as simple as joining in on our family outing.

We sat at a picnic table near the shore to watch the sunset rather than heading straight home. Delilah was sat in her stroller and slurping up whatever bits of yogurt someone was willing to give her, leaving her face sticky with the sweet flavors of mango, french vanilla, and birthday cake goodness. It wasn’t until the sun was down and the sky held that beautiful tinge of orange that we finally made our way back home.

Our conversations were interrupted by the sound of the telephone ringing inside as we headed up the walkway. I looked at Harry and Owen, brows furrowed together. It was unusual for someone to be calling the house phone if only because I rarely received calls -- the two people who knew the number aside from Chester and Shaina standing right beside me -- and when I did, they were typically on my cell. I felt around my pocket and realized that my phone hadn’t been there at all, but ignored my apparent forgetfulness to jog into the kitchen and catch the call before it stopped ringing.

Grabbing the phone from its cradle on the countertop and bringing it to my ear without looking at the caller ID, I answered. “Hello?”

“Why weren’t you answering your phone?” The voice on the other end of the line sounded frustrated, but there was also a sense of desperation behind it as well, one I’d never heard before from the girl before.

“Shaina?” Her voice was frantic and that immediately struck fear in me. My chest tightened and the smile from earlier was wiped completely from my face. “It’s in the other room, I didn’t hear it. What’s going on?”

“Mikki, you need to come home,” she pleaded.

“Is everything okay?”

“No, your mom, she--”

She stopped addressing me, the sound of other voices in the background catching into the receiver as someone began to ask her questions. I heard vague details here and there, but I couldn’t pick up on what was happening on her end. The sound of shuffling by the entrance caught my attention and I looked to see Harry making his way inside, confusion and concern expressed on his face as he stepped over towards me.

“What’s going on?” he asked, voice low.

“I don’t know,” I confessed, biting my lower lip nervously.

I knew I should probably wait until whenever Shaina was done talking to whoever, but the anticipation of whatever news she had to tell me. What was wrong with my mom? Why was Shaina calling me and not her? The possibilities started racing through my head.

“Shaina, tell me what the hell is going on,” I finally pushed, frowning.

“She fell and hit her head while at work. We’re at the hospital now and they want to run tests, but she’s not conscious yet and they need family to sign off on it.”

My heart sank in my chest. My hands began to shake and I could feel the inevitability of my knees giving out on me, knowing that at any moment I would suffer the same fate as the phone that was now laying on the tile flooring. I would’ve fallen in that moment if it hadn’t been for Harry’s arm wrapping around me, holding me up and pulling me in to keep me from shaking.

“Mikayla? Mikayla, what’s going on?” he asked, voice still low if only to keep me from panicking further.

“My… My mom, she’s… s-she’s…” I stuttered, but I couldn’t form a coherent thought.

Owen entered the kitchen and grabbed the phone, talking to Shaina to figure out what was going on as Harry held me close, his hand brushing my hair out of my face and thumb lightly grazing over the skin of my cheek.

“Hey… Look at me, look at me. Mikayla?” His voice sounded distant, even though he was right in front of me.

I tried to focus, but the only thing running through my mind was the thought that I could lose my mother any minute. This is what I had been dreading since I was 16 years old and found the letter tucked away in the kitchen drawer. The idea that I could continue living on this earth without her there wasn’t one that I could stomach. I felt sick, but his touch helped to keep my stomach from churning.

“We need to go back,” I finally spoke, voice breaking. “We need to go back home.”

“What’s going on?” Harry asked again, hopeful look on his face.I knew he wanted to know details, but I couldn’t give him any. I knew about as much as he did, but what was for certain was that I had to be there for her.

“Her mom’s in the hospital,” Owen spoke, setting the phone back into its cradle. “I’ll get some stuff packed for the munchkin if you help her out.”

Harry nodded and helped me back to my room, my knees still weak and forcing me to lean most of my weight against him the whole way. I sat on the bed while Harry shoved what he could into my suitcases, asking me occasionally if there was anything specific I wanted him to grab, but at that point I didn’t care what I brought. I needed to see my mom.

We were back in New York by the early hours of the following morning, immediately going to the hospital. Mom was still unconscious, but they had checked for concussion symptoms to make sure that there was no brain swelling or anything until I was able to get there. As soon as I signed off on the tests, they wheeled her from her room to see if they could find out what it was that had caused her to collapse.

I stayed in her room, waiting impatiently for any sign of something -- anything. I needed news. I needed to know that she would be okay. Harry rarely left my side throughout the night, only stepping out to calm Delilah when she woke up in a fuss. Otherwise, he was holding onto my hand or rubbing my back, trying to convince me to get some rest. That would be impossible any other day, but especially right now with all of the uncertainty that surrounded mom’s condition.

I had expected the next time I came to New York to be on my own terms, not like this. Never like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late updaaate. I got wrapped up in life and didn't have the energy to write, but hopefully you can forgive me.
> 
> Uh oooh. What do you think's going to happen to Penelope? Do you think she'll be alright? And what about Mikayla? How do you think she's going to react to all of this and being back in the place she tried to escape?
> 
> 7 more chapters to go. What could possibly happen in such a short amount of time?! Guess you'll have to wait and see, won't you? Thank you all so much for the reads, reviews, and kudos. I love you all so very much for sticking with me throughout all of this.


	24. Between the Bars

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time they wheeled mom's bed back into her room. She was awake now, but just barely, eyelids heavy as she looked to the nurse beside her bed.

"If you need anything, please let us know," she instructed, her words geared towards her but she looked in my direction as well, offering a sympathetic smile before leaving the room.

I made my way out of my chair, slow to move so I could keep my balance as I made my way to her side. I hadn't slept since before we flew up, so it was surely close to 24 hours by now. Harry was asleep by now, resting on the couch that lined the window beside me, Delilah asleep on his chest. I didn't wake them though. Mom didn't need to be overwhelmed with attention right after regaining consciousness and they needed to get some sleep before we had to figure out where we would be staying while we were in the city.

"Momma?" I spoke, my voice breaking from the dryness in my throat. I knelt down beside the bed, reaching over to take her hand and hopefully grab her attention. "Momma, it's me."

Her eyes slowly made their way towards mine and I offered up a barely there smile, placing a kiss to her knuckles. It seemed to take a moment for her to register who I was or her surroundings, but I caught the twitch at the edge of her lips while she tried to smile back. "Monkey, you're here."

"I am, yeah," I replied, words slightly muffled against her fingers. I clutched onto her hand, holding it tightly without causing her any pain. It was as close as I could get to hugging her tightly without forcing my way into the small hospital bed. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," she admitted, soft laughter floating past her lips. Despite her attempt at being lighthearted in this situation, I couldn't join her. "You didn't have to come all this way."

"I did. Shaina said you hit your head and I got so worried." Swallowing hard, I rested my forehead down against our hands, allowing myself a moment to regain any semblance of composure I could find. "Do you remember what happened?"

"It was only an accident, monkey. I'm okay," she insisted. She had that look in her eyes though, the one I knew all too well. She was keeping something from me and the dark circles beneath her eyes and thinning of her face was a dead giveaway.

"It's back, isn't it?" I whispered, almost scared to hear her reply.

The room was silent save for the beeping of the heart monitor. I brought my head up to look at her again and all I could see was an apologetic look on her face. That was all I needed to know that it was true.

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't speak. Instead, I got up from my knees and crawled into bed beside her, curling up into her side, and held onto her while tears began pooling in my eyes. I felt 16 again -- like my world was falling apart around me at the idea of losing my mother. She couldn't even reassure me this time and she didn't try, only wrapped her arms weakly around me and rocked me gently like a child.

Mom had to have known for awhile; she would've felt the disease taking its toll on her body -- felt ill and weak, tired, especially from all the work she was doing. Is that why she hadn't come down for the holidays?

It took time for the tests to come back, but when they did, it only confirmed that my worst nightmare had come true. The cancer had come back and had been for some time now. The doctor began running over various treatment options, but all I could think about was how all of the savings we had built up since her last round of chemo were going to disappear again.

Part of me thought to ask Chester for help, but he had already done so much for me the past few years that it felt selfish to even consider it. I had some saved away. I would take it out and use it to pay for what I could and we would figure out our other options in the meantime.

There wasn't a night I didn't spend by mom's side throughout her hospital stay. I'd be forced to leave to take a shower and get changed every other day, but nobody tried to persuade me to leave otherwise. Delilah stayed with Chester and Shaina most of the time so she wouldn't be cooped up in the small white room every day while Harry stayed by my side, only leaving now and then for business. He wouldn't tell me what he was doing, but he insisted that I shouldn't worry about it and that I'd know soon enough. Gemma and Niall stopped by to see me and bring food for the three of us. It was nice seeing them again, though I wish it had been under different circumstances.

They weren't the only familiar faces to stop in, though.

There was a knock on the door before it was opened, a redheaded woman stepping into the doorway. "Miss Beaumont, you have some visitors."

"Do you feel up to visitors, momma?" I asked, but I saw the nurse shake her head.

"They're here for you, actually."

"For me?" I repeated, brows furrowed. I couldn't imagine who it would be. Nobody else knew I was in town. Not to my knowledge, anyway.

Standing, I made my way over to the door, looking back to the bed. "I'll be right back," I assured her, then followed the nurse from the room and down towards the nurses' station.

As we walked past the double doors, I immediately recognized the three figures waiting for me. Dory, Daphne, and Olivia were stood there by the elevators, speaking quietly to each other as they waited for me to arrive, Eden wrapped up in her mother's arms. I couldn't bring myself to say anything at first, only staring at the three friends that I'd left without a word.

They almost looked the same, how they'd been when I'd left. Dory's hair was bleach blonde now, a change I would certainly need to get used to. Olivia hadn't changed, a little bit more meat on her bones than I remembered, but she still seemed to be the maternal figure I'd gone to in tears so many times those last few weeks.

My eyes lingered on the girl stood in the middle, her brown hair pulled out of her face in a ponytail only emphasizing the hollowed out look of her cheeks. It had been so long since I'd last seen or heard anything about her that I'd almost assumed I'd never see her again. It almost didn't seem real. Daphne hadn't lost the ethereal beauty she possessed, but there was a lack of life in her eyes, like she'd experienced a lifetime in the two years since we'd seen each other.

I'd stood there staring for so long that I'd nearly lost track of time. It wasn't until Olivia looked over that I was brought back to the present.

"It really is you," she said softly, a look of disbelief spreading across her face and softening into relief.

Eden lifted her head up from Olivia's shoulder and her face lit up, enthusiastically waving her hand. "Mikki, Mikki!"

"Hi, sweetie," I replied, slowly bringing my hand up and waving.

Next was Dory, but she didn't bother to say anything. Instead, she quickly closed the space between us and threw her arms around my neck, pulling me in close and squeezing me tight. She still smelled of the familiar apple-scented perfume she was so fond of -- it was comforting. "I missed you so much, Mikki Mouse."

"How did you guys find me?" I asked, hesitating a moment before I returned the embrace.

"Shaina told me you were back and I had to see you with my own two eyes," Dory explained, reluctantly letting me go and stepping back to look at me. "First Daphy was gone and then you. I got so worried. Where did you go?"

I really needed to talk to Shaina about revealing my whereabouts without my knowledge.

"I... I had to go," I said, unable to form the proper thoughts. I was still trying to comprehend everything about what was happening right now, that we were all really here and in the same room together after so long. "It's a long story."

I looked past Dory to see Daphne standing quietly, watching on with an almost uneasy look, as if she wasn't sure if she should approach me or not. I moved out of Dory's arms and made my way over towards her, stopping right in front of her to take her in for a moment.

"Hey, stranger," she started, averting her gaze after a moment.

Without a word, I pulled her in, giving her the biggest hug I could muster. I could tell I surprised her, but the usually unaffectionate Daphne wrapped her arms around me too and we stood there for what felt like an eternity before either of us spoke.

"What happened? You just... Disappeared one day," I spoke softly, finally pulling back so I could see her face. She still wouldn't look at me, as if she were ashamed of her answer.

"Long story?" She repeated my earlier comment with a faint laugh, bringing her gaze to meet mine. "I got caught up in... Stuff. Wrong people, sold me lots of powerful shit. Got hooked again. But I'm... I'm doing better now. Thanks to Dory."

"She's staying with me now," Dory chimed in with a smile and a nod, wrapping her arms around Daphne's neck in a hug. "We're roomies!"

"Would you want to come and get something to eat with us?" Olivia began. "We have a lot to catch up on, and you look like you could use something other than hospital coffee."

I couldn't help but smile, despite the circumstances. I'd been gone for so long and everybody had gone through so many changes of their own, but that didn't change the fact that we were family.

"I'll let mom know. You can come say hi if you want? I have a lot to tell you guys too," I admitted.

I made my way back to the room, the girls following behind me and stopping by the door so I could make sure mom was wanting visitors. I saw that she was still watching whatever game show was on tv when I'd left the room, relaxed against the extra pillows she'd requested. She looked up when I came in and smiled softly, shifting to sit up a little more so she could see me better. "Who was that, monkey?"

"Do you remember Dory?" I asked softly, taking the seat beside her bed again.

I still hadn't told her about the club. I knew now wasn't really the time, but I wasn't sure if I'd ever really get the chance to do so later.

"That sweet girl who'd bring me cupcakes while you were away on your trip?" I nodded and her smile grew. "Of course. Is she here? Tell her she can come and say hello."

"She's outside," I assured her, taking her hand. "I... Never told you how I met her though." I bit my lip. "When you got sick the first time, I got a job somewhere other than the diner. I told you it was a modeling one, but I was working at a strip club. I met Dory there. Daphne and Liv, too. I know I've talked about them at times. They took good care of me while I was there."

I could tell by the look on her face, she hadn't been expecting to hear what I'd just said. She didn't respond to it though, so I continued. "They all came to make sure you're okay because they know how important you are to me."

She was quiet for many moments, unsure of what to say to the news. It was a lot to take in, so I couldn't blame her. Finding out your only daughter was stripping to help pay for your cancer treatments must have been an awful feeling, but she hid it well enough. She was good at that. Guess that's where I got it from.

"I'd like to meet them all," she spoke after many moments of quiet, soft smile turning her lips upward.

Smiling in return, I looked over towards the door to see Dory poking her head inside, grinning when I motioned for them to enter. She tugged the others inside along with her and they spent the next little while with me by her side, talking and getting to know each other.

Mom was surprisingly okay with the information about all of us having worked at the club. She hardly mentioned it, but listened intently to the stories the others would tell of fun moments we had together there. It felt good not having to hide that side of me from her anymore. Seeing the most important people in my life meeting each other for the first time and bonding made my heart feel lighter for the first time in days.

Eventually, visiting hours ended. The girls headed back towards the elevators and I joined them, ready to go out for food and update them on everything that had happened while I'd been away. When we reached the elevators though, I stopped when I saw Harry stepping out of one with a bag in his hand and Delilah nowhere in sight.

He turned to head down the hall when he noticed me with the others, look of surprise on his face. "Oh, I didn't think you'd be out here," he commented. "Where are you headed?"

"Where's Delilah?" I asked, completely ignoring his question. He'd left the hospital with her hours ago and now she was gone; my maternal instincts were kicked into overdrive.

"She's fine, love," he reassured me, stepping forward and placing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "She's with Niall and Gem for the night," he replied, his eyes turning to look to the other girls. "Are these your friends?"

It dawned on me that I'd never introduced them, let alone told the girls that Harry was back in my life. It was clear on their face that they were confused, but I looked over to them with a soft smile. "Yeah. They're my sisters from the club."

"Pleasure to meet you." Harry extended a hand out to them to shake.

I could tell they were hesitant, but they all greeted him in return and introduced themselves in the process, Dory being the most eager of them all. No surprise there.

"We were going to go get some food. Did you want to come along?" She asked, eyes wide and hopeful.

"Oh. Erm, I actually have something I wanted to show Mikayla, but I don't wanna interrupt your get together," he explained. "I can stay here and spend time with her mum."

"She's told us a lot about you," Olivia piped up, though her words were tinged with a hint that it might be best for him to come along and tell us the more positive sides to him before they were willing to accept that he was back.

He paused and looked down at me, almost as if he were silently asking for my permission. These were my friends, after all. They knew how we started, but they didn't know about the good times we'd had since then.

"Come with?" I asked quietly, biting my lip.

Nodding, he rested his free hand on the small of my back and looked to the others. "Where are we headed?"

We made our way to a nearby cafe that was still open and spent the next two hours there, catching up. I told them about my pregnancy, my escape to the beach, and how Harry came to find me as soon as he found out. I showed them pictures of Delilah -- because what else was there on my phone these days? -- and promised Eden that they would meet some day and be the best of friends. Dory couldn't stop squealing at the pictures as she scrolled through and made plans to come by and meet her within the next few days.

As they caught me up on their lives, it reminded me why my choice to leave had been for the best. Things at the club hadn't gotten any better. If anything, they'd gotten worse with time. After I left, Richie grew even more angry and resentful towards the others working there. He'd tried to track me down, spent weeks trying to figure it out, to no avail.

My whole body grew tense at that news. What if he had been able to find me? What if he'd been the one to show up at my door unexpectedly? I tried not to let it show how much the idea terrified me to my core, but when I felt Harry's hand take my trembling one underneath the table, I knew he could sense it.

I'd never told him about Richie. I'd never told him that he tried to control me, or what he did as punishment for me being with Harry. I didn't want Harry to have to carry that burden too. It was something that I lived with every day.

We hugged before we parted ways and I gave each of them the biggest one I could muster. They made me promise that I wouldn't disappear again without letting them know where I was going and, although I was hesitant, I agreed. The girls left and that left me and Harry gathering up our things, ready to do the same.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly. "You looked really shaken up when they started talking about that guy."

"Y-yeah," I stuttered, swallowing hard. "He's just a character from my past I'd rather not remember."

Harry frowned. "Did he hurt you?"

I didn't know how to respond. He had, in many ways, but I didn't want to get into it. Not here, not now. "Can we not talk about it? Please?"

He nodded a bit, but he pulled me into his arms, holding me close for a few moments with his chin resting on top of my head. I returned the embrace and we stood there for awhile, until one of the employees reminded us that the cafe was closing.

"I have something I wanna show you," Harry said once we'd stepped out onto the sidewalk outside of the little shop.

I raised a brow, looking over his face. "What is it?"

"I have to show you," he insisted, reaching out for my hand.

I took his, almost scared to see what it was he had to surprise me with. I guess that's what the city did to me -- it made me anxious, worried about every little thing. He tugged me along with him, his fingers laced with mine, and the touch was enough to keep my heart rate down.

We made it a flew blocks down before he stopped me outside of a building. The lights were off inside the shop, so I couldn't see what was inside, but he pulled a pair of keys out and unlocked the front door, stepping inside and leading me along with him.

"Wait here," he instructed, kissing the back of my hand before releasing it and moving into the dark room. I did as he said, nervously shifting my weight around on my feet while I waited.

Suddenly, the lights flipped, illuminating the space. I looked around and what I saw took my breath away.

It was a tattoo parlor. Everything looked brand new, never used before, and the signs on the window indicated that the grand opening was the following day. I looked up when I saw Harry return from the back room, bag no longer in hand.

"So... What do you think?" He asked, clearly nervous about my opinion.

"Is this yours?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. "The one you and Niall were talking about opening?"

"Yeah," he responded, smile growing. "I'm surprised you remembered."

"You're a hard man to forget, Harry Styles," I chuckled.

Stepping further into the store and looking around, I took in all of the details that I could. It was a modern design, but still comfortable enough to where I could feel myself relax just being in these four walls. I hoped that everything would go well for him. He deserved something good.

"I love it," I finally answered, looking towards him again with a warm smile. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you," he replied, stepping over towards me and taking my hand again. "I was... Going to ask you to be our first client, but it's pretty short notice for getting something permanent."

I laughed a bit, giving his hand a squeeze. "Maybe a little, but... I could think of something. You open tomorrow?"

"Yeah. The event starts at 6, but if you wanted to do it before everyone's here, you could. Preferential treatment and all that," he suggested.

"That might be good," I said with a nod, looking up at him.

"There's one more thing I wanted you to see."

"One more?" I asked, smile growing. "Alright, lead the way."

He did just that, bringing me towards the back of the building towards a staircase. He led me up to the top and pulled out his keys again, opening up the door and leading me inside.

I looked around the room, unsure of what to make of the sight before me. The apartment was barely furnished, but it was clear that someone had been in here doing work recently, the room still holding a faint aroma of fresh paint.

I looked towards him and saw him standing by the door, keys in hand. "What is this?"

"It's not much," he admitted, shrugging. "But it can be yours too, if you want it."

"Harry..."

"You were worried about Delilah having a place to sleep," he began. "And I know you don't like to sleep alone because that's when the night terrors get you the most. I closed on this place before I left, assuming it'd be my own bachelor pad. As soon as I found out that I had a daughter, that all changed. I wanted to provide for you both. I promised I would." He made his way over to me, taking my hands in his own. "I know you probably don't wanna stay in the city and you're itching to get back down south, but your family's here. I'm... I'm here." He cleared his throat, bringing his gaze up from our hands to my eyes. "And I'd like it if you were here too, so we can be a proper family. You don't have to do this alone anymore."

Is this where he'd been disappearing to the past few days? He'd been here, trying to get this place ready for the three of us, and he wasn't even sure that I would accept the offer. I was speechless, my vision growing hazy as my eyes began to water.

"You did this for me?" I asked softly, words barely above a whisper.

He nodded. "For you and her... And for us, if you want us."

Propping myself up onto the tips of my toes, I closed the space between us and brought my lips to his. He seemed surprised at first, but he eased into it and returned the gesture after a moment, his hands moving up to cup my face.

My main complaint when we were together was that I didn't feel as if he ever took my feelings into consideration, that he never valued me or showed that I was important to him. Buying this place and being so active in Delilah's life since he'd found out about her, those two actions alone were enough to let me know that had changed.

The kiss broke after a few moments, but we stayed as close as we could. His forehead rested gently against mine and I kept my eyes closed, lingering in his touch for as long as I could.

"Are you sure you want this?" His voice was low, barely audible, as he pushed my hair behind my ear and cradled the back of my neck with his large hand.

Opening my eyes, I looked up into his. The look in his eyes hinted that what he was asking wasn't the only thing he wanted to know. There was an underlying meaning to his words, one that I had asked myself repeatedly since he'd shown back up in my life.

Am I sure I want him? After everything that we had been through, was I sure that this was what I wanted?

"I want this," I responded. "I want this with you."

The smile that came to his face was one of relief. He kissed my lips a few more times, as if he couldn't believe that I was there and that I wanted to be with him again. I returned each one, holding the last one as long as I could.

"I love you," he spoke, lips brushing against mine with our proximity.

I smiled, eyes closed. I was ready to allow myself this one thing. "I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in case you didn't see, the reason why this update is super duper late is because I've been working way more than usual and I didn't have time to finish the chapter and still have it be of any decent quality by Wednesday of last week. In order to make up for that, though, my hope is to try and update twice next week since I have a full week off from work while my grandparents are visiting. I don't know if it's going to actually happen, but here's hoping!
> 
> On to the chapter. What'd you guys think? Was it worth the wait like I said it'd be? What do you think will happen next? I know I didn't give very many hints, so I'd like to hear what you guys predict.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading and for being patient with me. Love you guys so much!


	25. Fool With Dreams

It took nearly two weeks before we were fully settled into the new place. I had to sort through the things I'd left in my old apartment to decide on what to bring to the new one, then it took forever to decide on what furniture to get to make it feel livable. Despite all that, it felt like home almost immediately.

I had a place for Delilah to play and sleep, and one where I could escape when things got to be too much at the hospital, knowing that I'd be coming home to the one person who always knew how to make me feel better. I didn't know how he did it, but Harry always had that effect on me.

We weren't officially together. Not yet, anyway. We knew we loved each other, and we'd shared the same bed the past few nights being curled into each other's arms, but he said he wanted to take me out on a proper date before he officially asked me to be his again. It was sweet, even if I couldn't necessarily understand the point of the ceremonial aspect of it all.

I didn't object, though. Our only date had been that day we went sightseeing in London and ended up on the Eye, which seemed like an eternity ago now. I wanted to be able to be with him and not have to hide it anymore -- not like before. To me, we were together already, and that was all that mattered. I was willing to wait for a label because it didn't change how we felt for the other.

The business at the shop had been booming the first few days, considering it was brand new. Niall had shown off his prowess as a charismatic business man in the way he'd advertised. The grand opening event was a success, free tattoos one of the many perks that came from the evening. He paid for advertisements on the radio, one of which I heard while I was on the metro with Delilah on the way back from seeing mom, and he offered a variety of deals to get initial business going, allowing the work to do the talking so word of mouth could take its toll. There were people filtering in and out of the shop daily, and I felt incredibly proud that their hard work had paid off.

With the success, though, came some downsides, ones I hadn't considered before agreeing to all of this. The main downside was that Harry had to work long hours, leaving me searching for things to do most days. At the beach house, I at least had my writing and I could walk next door to see Owen if I ever ran out of things to entertain me; he would always manage to come up with something. Everything here required money, so I stayed in most of the time, occasionally ventured out to the park when we weren't checking in on mom and her progress.

The second was the noises that came from downstairs; the doors opening and closing, the talking, and the buzz of the instruments as they worked. I still wasn't sure how the sounds downstairs would affect things in the future, but Harry had at least made sure the nursery was sound proofed as best as it could be so it wouldn't interfere with Delilah's sleep schedule. Not that she had much of one anymore.

She was out early tonight, which left me by myself for a little while until Harry and Niall were finished with work. At the very least, his new job allowed me to see Niall and Gemma more frequently. We'd agreed to start what would later become a family tradition of having dinner together every night. Since everyone was always busy running around, it gave us a chance to catch up and unwind together at the end of the day.

I had dinner in the oven already and was sat on the couch with a cup of tea and my laptop, doing some research on publishers here in the city. I still wasn't completely sold on the idea of sending out my manuscript to anyone. I had given Harry a copy, though, and he'd spent a lot of late nights reading and asking me questions along the way that made me wonder if maybe it'd be worth the attempt to at least say I tried. His enthusiasm towards it made me feel more confident about my writing and the idea of putting it out there for the world to see. I hoped he wasn't only being nice though and that he did legitimately believe I had a shot at all of this, otherwise I wasn't sure what I would do.

I heard the door open and glanced over to see Harry walking in, Niall trailing behind him. The two were mid conversation as they strolled inside and I couldn't help but eavesdrop on their talk, since they hadn't noticed me yet.

"I dunno, Niall," Harry sighed. "I'll get around to it when I get around to it."

"Don't wait too long, mate. Y'know she'll say yes," Niall insisted, patting his friend in the shoulder. "What's there to be nervous about?"

Say yes to what?

"Loads," Harry chuckled low, then glanced over to notice me sitting in the living room, though at this point I pretended I hadn't been listening. I was curious, but I didn't want Harry to grow cold feet and never pull through with whatever the two had planned.

"I, erm. Can't believe you had to tattoo a guy's arse today," Niall laughed, his awkward transition into the new conversation an attempt at covering up whatever the two had been discussing before. Harry shook his head in response and bumped him with his arm.

"Comes with the territory," he chuckled. "I'm gonna need a long shower after that."

"I'm guessing you two had an eventful evening?" I chimed in, closing my laptop and standing so I could join them in the kitchen. I tried to push their earlier conversation to the back of my mind, but it was hard when I was so curious to know more.

"You can say that again," Harry said, warm smile lighting up his face as he met me halfway. He leaned down and pecked a kiss to my lips, cupping my face. I could feel his thumbs lightly stroke along my skin as he pulled away. "Meeting all kinds of interesting characters."

"Smells incredible in here, Mik," Niall broke in. "What've you got for us tonight?"

"Vegetarian lasagna. Mom's recipe," I replied with a smile, looking over towards him. "Is Gemma still coming?"

"Should be, yeah. Haven't gotta text sayin' otherwise," Niall responded, tugging his phone from his pocket to double-check. The door opened, drawing my attention, and I saw the familiar ombre hair thrown up into a messy bun.

"Never fear, Gemma's here," she announced with flair. She slipped in the door, dropping her purse off on the table sat beside the door. "Traffic was awful, I don't know how you lot've dealt with this for years."

"You get used to it after awhile," I chuckled, making my way over towards her to pull her in for a hug. "I'm glad you could make it."

"Of course. Never gonna miss out on food I don't have to cook, am I?" she laughed, returning the squeeze. "Where's my niece? I need to smother those cheeks with kisses."

"She's asleep already. We went to the park today after visiting mom and fed the birds, so she didn't really get a nap. I think she got so excited, it tired her out," I explained, chuckling. "Maybe she'll wake up when she smells the food."

"If she's my niece at all, she will," Gemma laughed, making her way towards Niall to greet him.

I moved over to the counter to check the timer and get the remainder of the things needed to set the table when I felt Harry's hands on my hips. Even though I knew it was him, it didn't stop the tension that immediately came to my shoulders and my breath from catching in my throat. My skin crawled and I had to grip onto the stack of plates in my hands tightly to keep my fingers from shaking. I hadn't been expecting the touch and I had never been very good with surprise touches, especially from behind, since the incident with Richie.

"You okay?" Feeling a soft kiss to my shoulder, I glanced over to look at him and offer up a barely there smile.

"I'm fine. You scared me, that's all," I reassured him. Harry didn't know about what had happened, so I couldn't blame him for it. He was only trying to show me affection and my reaction probably made it seem like I wanted nothing to do with him.

He didn't seem to believe me, but he didn't pry any further, placing another kiss to my cheek before releasing me. "Relax, I've got it," he murmured, hand slipping around to rest over top of mine. "You made everything, you don't have to do the rest. What do you need me to do?"

Harry always had to remind me that I didn't have to do everything on my own now that he was here. It was something I still struggled with every day. I'd always done everything, ever since mom got sick the first time. Slowly, but surely, I was easing into allowing him to help me, but it was going to be a long process. Old habits die hard, I guess.

"Could you set the table?" I requested. "Food should be done in a few minutes."

He nodded, reaching around me to grab the plates from my hands and bringing them to the table on the other side of the kitchen. I watched him and the others, the sight of all of them calming my nerves.

This was my family.

Well, part of it, anyway. Right now, it still felt disconnected. It had ever since Chester and Shaina had come into my life. I knew my mom was still hesitant to interact with him at all, even though he was eager to make amends, but I wasn't going to push it right now. The last thing she needed while she was going through chemo was to worry about reuniting in any way with someone she hadn't seen in over 20 years.

Still, I wanted to introduce everybody to each other and bring both sides of my family together. I wasn't sure how to go about it and have everyone on board, but I also knew it wouldn't feel the same without mom there. I vowed that when she was better, I would set something up for all of us so everyone could get to know each other. I wanted our family to be a family, and I was willing to do what I could to make that happen.

The timer went off and brought me out of my thoughts. Pulling on the oven mitts, I removed the dish of lasagna and tray of garlic bread from the oven, bringing them over to the table and setting them down onto the protective pads set there.

"I hope you guys like it," I commented, pulling off the mitts. "If not, I've got some other stuff in the fr--"

"I'm sure we'll all love it," Harry reassured me, reaching out to take my hand and giving it a squeeze. "C'mon. Sit and relax."

I took in a deep breath and nodded, taking my seat beside him. Harry was doing his best at trying to keep me in one piece when I was on the verge of falling apart. He made sure I ate by sending me reminders or stopping in during his lunch break. He held me through the night and sang to me to help get me relaxed enough to sleep. He always insisted that he could get food and bring it home if I ever didn't feel like cooking, and having that option on days where it was hard to even get out of bed was reassuring. With everything happening right now though, cooking was the one thing I had the most control over, so I never really minded having to do it.

"What'd you get up to today?" He asked, unfolding his napkin and setting it down on his thigh, glancing towards me.

"Well, other than seeing mom and going to the park, not much," I admitted with a small shrug. "I talked to Dory."

"How's she doing?" He asked, food tucked into his cheek.

"Good," I replied, scooping some lasagna from the dish onto my plate. "She told me that she and Daphne are considering quitting."

"Really?" Harry raised his brows. "How's you-know-who gonna take that?"

"Sound like you're talkin' about Voldemort or somethin'," Niall laughed, food shoved into his cheek while he spoke.

"May as well be, from what I've heard," Harry scoffed. "Guy's scum."

If only he knew the half of it.

While I was away, Harry had explained to Gemma and Niall what it was that I did for a living when we met. When he told me that, I was scared to know how they'd treat me the next time they saw me, but they hadn't thought any less of me. In fact, Gemma even asked if I'd teach her to pole dance since she'd heard it was great for your abs.

"Not sure," I responded to Harry's question, biting my lip. "Probably not well. He'd lose his top three girls completely. The only reason they haven't left yet is because they haven't been able to find new jobs. Daph's struggling to find a place who'll pick her up without documentation."

"We could always use more help at the salon!" Gemma chimed in with a wave of her fork. "Hair washers, receptionist -- that sorta thing. I can get her all set, she won't have to worry about all that."

"I'll let her know. I may even take you up on that offer at some point," I said, smiling, then looked to Harry. "Dory could be good downstairs? She's an artist too."

"Maybe, yeah. Get her trained properly on a tattoo gun, she'd be good to go. Got the look and everything," he chuckled.

"Those girls are really lucky to have you as a friend, Mik," Niall remarked.

I looked over towards him, watching Gemma nod in agreement, before I raised a brow curiously. "Why do you say that?"

"'Cos of how much you care about gettin' 'em outta that situation," he explained, though his tone made it seem like he was giving me the most obvious answer in the world.

"Oh." Biting my lip, I brushed some hair out of my face as I tried to think of a response. "I mean... They're my best friends. I don't want them working there as long as he's still there. It's not safe for them."

Harry's hand fell to my knee and I glanced over to see him offering up a small smile. "M'sure they appreciate it, too."

It didn't look like it was all he wanted to say, but he went back to eating instead, leaving me wondering what it was that was on his mind yet again.

Most of dinner was like this. Harry didn't say much, but he'd chime in whenever Niall brought up something about the shop or someone addressed a question to him. It seemed like there was something distracting him and he nearly jumped at the chance to grab Delilah when the sounds of her fussing came from the nursery.

"Is he okay?" I asked, glancing over towards Niall. He looked unsure of what I meant. "He seems distracted."

"Erm." Niall paused, brows furrowed while searching for something to say. "Yeah, think he's a bit stressed is all."

"Someone's hungry, yeah?" Harry cooed softly as he carried Delilah from the room, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Wanna go say hi to everyone?"

Standing from my seat, I made my way towards them. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine. Think she heard us all talking and wanting to join in, the chatterbox," he chuckled. "Maybe a bit hungry though."

"I'll take he--"

"Relax," he said firmly, looking at me. "I can feed her."

Nodding slowly, I let him continue to the table and get Delilah situated in her high chair, going to grab out some of the cut up fruit from the fridge. I set it down for him and watched him open up the container, talking to her casually while he brought a piece of sliced banana to her mouth.

"Looking like a proper family over there," Gemma commented. I looked over to see her smiling fondly in our direction.

My face flushed, leaving my cheeks a shade of red, but I smiled nonetheless in return. "He's stepped up in a big way. I can't thank him enough for it."

"You do plenty of thanking in the bedroom," Harry said, his comment so quick and casual that I almost didn't catch it, but when it processed, my eyes went wide.

"Raunchy!" Gemma laughed, Niall following right along with her.

If looks could kill, Harry would be six feet under with plenty of daggers plunged into his chest. He glanced over and noticed how angry I appeared, an amused smirk coming to his lips. "What? It's not like they don't know we've done it. I mean, hello," he said, waving his hand in front of Delilah like an exhibit at a museum. "Evidence right here."

"That doesn't mean you need to broadcast it to the whole dinner table, thank you," I reminded him, reaching across and slapping his arm.

"It's alright, really. I'm glad to hear your sex life's alive and well, as long as I'm not getting any in-depth details about my brother."

"I wouldn't describe it that way. And you won't as long as he keeps his mouth shut," I sighed, my face warm with the heat of the blush that took it over.

I could hear Harry snickering softly to himself as he continued to feed Delilah. It wasn't that I didn't want people to know that it happened so much as us being able to keep some mystery about our relationship in that regard. There were so many people who knew about everything else that I wanted the details of what happened behind closed doors -- however infrequently -- to be our little secret.

Gemma and Niall left about an hour later after having some tea and coffee, Gemma mentioning she had an early start tomorrow. Once the apartment was quiet again, save for the sound of the sing-along book Delilah was playing with, I pulled Harry aside so she wouldn't have to hear.

Since we'd started being intimate again, I had only been able to manage going all the way once and even then we had to stop part way through because all I could think about was Richie. I knew I owed some kind of explanation to him, but in the meantime, we'd pacify our urges by going down on each other. It seemed like after his comment and my reaction to sex and the way he tried to touch me at the counter that tonight was as good a night as any to tell him.

"Are you still upset with me for what I said? I was only trying to lighten the mood," he explained, reaching up to brush my hair back behind my ear. "Didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't," I told him, biting my lip. "But... You were talking about something when you came in with Niall and it's had me thinking all night, plus you seemed distracted and--"

"Have I?" He asked, tilting his head a bit. "Didn't mean to. What did you hear earlier?"

"Something about worrying I'd say no to something?" I offered, not wanting to divulge the full extent of my knowledge. "And then with how I've been acting lately with certain touches and things, I... I felt like maybe you were worried because of that that I was having second thoughts about us."

"What I think is you've got a lot on your plate right now and you've been stressed, so the last thing I'd wanna do is add more to it," he insisted, his hands reaching up to cradle my face. "I haven't doubted us. Not once."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." He nodded.

"I... I still think you deserve an explanation for how I've been acting. With being with you, I mean," I stuttered out. I could feel my pulse rushing, the anticipation of revealing one of my best kept secrets the past few years starting to take its toll.

"What do you mean?" He asked, growing concerned.

"B-before I left," I began, swallowing hard. "When Richie found out I'd been seeing you... H-he punished me. H-he--" My voice broke and I cleared my throat, blinking back the tears that came to my eyes. "He pushed me against the door and took advantage of me. I didn't have a choice."

"Mikayla..." His voice trailed, unsure of what to say. Instead of speaking, he pulled me into his chest, and I wrapped my arms around him, face pressed into his shoulder to hold back whatever tears threatened to spill. "Why didn't you say anything before? I wouldn't have tried to push you into anything sexual if I'd known.."

"I haven't told anyone except for Shaina the night it happened," I admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't want you to blame yourself for it happening."

"Is it because I went to the club looking for you?" He asked, frowning.

"No. No. Please don't try and put this on yourself," I insisted, bringing my head up so I could look at him. "He would've found another reason to mark his territory if it hadn't been that."

Harry stayed silent, reaching up to brush the streaks of salty tears from my cheeks. He looked upset. I wasn't sure if it was because of the news itself or if he felt like he could've done something to prevent it, but I leaned into his touch and close my eyes.

"I thought that maybe after so long, I'd be over it. I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner," I spoke softly.

"Don't you ever apologise for that." I opened my eyes to look at him and I could almost see a fire in his eyes. "You went through hell and I'm not gonna blame you for not wanting to relive it."

"I still should've said something so you'd at least have known about it," I whispered, biting my lip.

"I know now. That's the important part," he assured me, pulling me in again and caressing my hair. "We'll get your friends out of there as soon as we can, alright? I'll make sure that poor excuse for a human being goes away for a long time."

I nodded slowly, not wanting to move too much but still wanting to acknowledge him. My arms slipped around his torso and locked around him, holding onto him tightly. He knew and he didn't think I was damaged goods because of it.

"You're not doing this alone. We'll make this right," he whispered.

I hoped so. God, how I hoped so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One update down, one to go! Sorry it took so long to get it up, but my grandparents were in town for the week so I was spending time with them.
> 
> This chapter isn't too much, but I thought I'd give a little more lighthearted stuff to round out all the drama. Are you glad that Mikayla finally told Harry about what happened with Richie? How do you think it'll go with Dory and Daphne trying to leave?
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading! If you have any in depth questions you wanna ask, you can send them to [my writing blog](http://makeshiftneverland.tumblr.com)!


	26. Pleasure and Pain

A couple more weeks had passed since Dory initially told me she wanted to quit working at the club. Mom's treatment progressing relatively well and things at home getting into a regular routine, life was starting to mellow out, save for this one thing. Of course, this one thing was causing me a great deal of stress.

I knew that Richie would be livid when he found out, especially if he knew that I encouraged it. The three of us were his top girls, and without us, he'd need to find new girls to try to take advantage of and use for his own will. None of us wanted that. We didn't want somebody else to be put in the position that we'd all been in for years. That was why planning this out to where he'd never be able to hurt anyone else again was crucial.

"I'm going with you," Harry insisted, arms folded across his chest and worried crease in his brow as he watched Shaina attach a small microphone to the inside of my bra. "You can't do this by yourselves."

"Yes because your presence would do wonders in keeping him from getting angry," Shaina remarked softly, fastening the clip and walking to her laptop.

"I look completely different now! He won't even know it's me, I'll only be another sleazeball in a strip joint," Harry retorted.

"Your hair is longer, that's about it. Besides, if he sees you with me, he'll connect the dots. He isn't stupid, just cruel," I reminded him with a sigh. "Harry, I know you're worried, but we'll be alright."

"You can't know that for sure," he responded, stepping over towards me with a frown. "I know he's done terrible things to you before. I-I don't... I don't want him to do anything again, or worse."

I couldn't blame him for reacting the way he was. He'd grown especially protective of me since I told him about everything I'd been through at the club, even though it had been years ago. He didn't want me anywhere near Richie and I didn't necessarily want to be there either, but I wanted to be there for Dory and Daphne. They were my best friends and I needed to help them get out of that situation.

Reaching up, I cupped Harry's face and ran my thumbs slowly across his cheeks. "I promise you, I'll come back in one piece."

"But what if you don't?" Harry responded, nearly cutting me off. "What if he hurts you? Beats you until you're a bloody pulp? What am I gonna do then? What about Delilah? Why do you need to be the one to do this?"

Swallowing hard, I tried to think of how to respond. I had to bite my tongue to keep from spitting out my initial answer of "it's not about you" -- something the old me would have said. But the old me was selfish in all the wrong ways. The old me only thought of what would be best in the long run for me, myself, and I. I acted on decisions based on how they'd affect me, and more often than not that ended in me keeping mum about what Richie did. For all I know, he could've been doing this to every single girl who worked under that roof and I could have easily stopped it years ago.

The old me would have hesitated, thought twice about running in there with guns blazing, ready to get rid of Richie once and for all. So why was I doing this now? Why hadn't I done this years ago, when I was already repulsed by the idea of even going into the club?

For once in my life, I actually had something to fight for. My friends -- my _family_ \-- deserved better than this. The old me deserved better than this.

"Because if I don't, he'll keep hurting other people. I can't let that happen," I finally spoke, words spoken barely above a whisper, yet firm in their conviction.

Harry looked defeated, but he didn't press any further. He knew he couldn't change my mind, not once I'd set it. Tilting his head slightly, he brought his hands up to hold onto my wrists and kissed the inside of my palm.

"Be careful..." He pleaded, concern carved in the crevices of his face.

"I'll be fine," I reassured him. I leaned in and gave him a kiss, one he returned fervently, and only pulled away when Shaina cleared her throat.

"Now that I've got that in lovely high quality..." She trailed, motioning for me to come over. "Whatever you say will be transmitted to my computer. I'll be recording the whole time. Try to get him to admit the things he's been doing there. Anything incriminating, especially the prostitution. We want to make sure he goes away for good."

"What if he finds out I'm wearing a wire?" I asked.

"He shouldn't, unless he intends to rip off your blouse," Shaina said, then paused for a moment. "The other two will be with you, so he wouldn't do that... Right?"

"I wouldn't put anything past him at this point," I murmured, sighing. "Where did you even get this stuff?"

"It's amazing what you can get your hands on through the internet," she responded, looking up at me. "You sure you want to do this?"

"I'm sure." I nodded. "They need me."

"Alright. We should get going then." Closing her laptop, Shaina stood from the chair and packed up her bag.

I made my way to the living room where Delilah was sat playing with blocks and knelt down beside her, brushing my fingers through her curls. "Hi, angel," I spoke softly when she looked at me. "Momma's got to go for a little bit. Be good for daddy, okay?"

Delilah held up her arms to me, the action alone causing me to rethink this whole plan. I picked her up from the floor and held her close, pressing kisses to her temple while walking over towards the door where the other two stood.

"I love you, little one," I cooed into her ear, closing my eyes and giving her one more lingering kiss into her hair. I pulled away and handed her to Harry, grabbing my purse from the table.

We were just about to leave when I heard something that stopped me in my tracks.

"Mama."

It was undeniably clear, the words that left Delilah's mouth. So far, she had only babbled and made various noises that sounded close to words, but never had it been as easy to distinguish as this.

"Did you hear that?" Harry asked, face showing the same amount of shock as I was sure mine felt.

"I did," I responded, my face taken over by a wide yet forlorn smile. I was her first word and here I was, about to put myself on the line and risk missing out on any of her other firsts. "Say it one more time for me, baby. Please?"

"Mama, mama, mama," Delilah repeated, reaching a chubby hand out towards me. I wanted so badly to reach out for it and stay here instead, but I couldn't. I had to do this.

"Momma will be back soon, baby," I replied with a soft smile.

I left the apartment before I could change my mind, the sound of Delilah calling for me following through the stairwell and out the door. All I could hope was that I would be back soon to hear her say it again and hold her tight, knowing that our future would be much brighter.

We met Dory and Daphne outside of the coffee shop across from the club half an hour later. Shaina set up shop there, having brought her textbooks to pretend as if she were studying while she waited.

"You guys ready?" I asked, looking between the two.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Daphne replied, her gaze focused on the front door of the club, hands shoved into the pockets of her coat.

"Are you sure you wanna come with us, Mikki Mouse? We can do it ourselves." Dory's brow was furrowed in worry. "You know he won't be happy to see you..."

"I know," I responded, glancing towards Shaina for a brief moment to see if she was good to go. "But I need this closure too."

The other two didn't know about the plan. I didn't want them to, otherwise they might talk me out of it. Dory was terrible at lying and if she knew, it'd only be a matter of time before Richie knew that something was wrong too.

Reaching for our hands, Dory took the lead and we walked across the street towards the club. Otto was out front today, and as much as I wanted to greet him and catch up, I knew we had a task to complete first.

The smell of lotions, baby oil, and body odor filtered into my nostrils once we were in the club. I don't ever remember it smelling this terrible before, but for all I know, it could've always been like this. Maybe the disillusionment of everything opened me up to what this place really was after being used to it for so long.

The club itself was empty except for the dancer on stage and the three guys who sat at the foot of it with dollar bills in hand. It was still early in the afternoon, so I was sure the crowd would pick up later in the evening. That meant we had a deadline and I was hoping that we would make it.

Dory's grip on my hand tightened and I looked over to where her eyes were focused to see Richie talking to the bartender, engaged in a whispered disagreement over something that had clearly upset him. Goosebumps prickled across my skin and my heart began to beat faster in my chest. I had forgotten how terrifying it felt to be in his presence.

When he turned to look our way, his eyes immediately fell on me, a smirk growing as he made his way over. "Well, well, well. Do my eyes deceive me or has my best girl come back for me? I knew you couldn't stay away, Mikki. This right here? This is all you're good for. I must say though, you've put on some weight. You'll have to lose that again before I put you back up on stage."

"I'm not here for you." Jaw clenched, I spoke through gritted teeth. "We need to talk in your office."

"We as in me and you, or all of you?" he asked, his focus turning to the girls beside me. "Because you two have a lot of explaining to do as to why you haven't been showing up for work the past few days."

"All of us," Daphne responded, face stoic. I didn't know how she managed to not show any fear, but I envied that, especially right now.

"Fine." Richie turned and walked across the club towards his office and the three of us followed, allowing some distance between him and us.

Once we were inside, he closed the door behind us. My body stiffened at the sound of the lock clicking into place, the situation all too familiar. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to regain composure when he spoke again.

"I don't have all day. I'm a busy man."

"We... W-we wanted..." Dory stuttered, her sentence trailing off.

"We came here to quit, Richie," Daphne finished, jaw set. Despite her poker face, I noticed the grip she had on Dory's hand. I wasn't sure if it was for her sake or Dory's at this point.

"Quit?" He scoffed a laugh. "I wasn't aware it was April Fool's Day already."

"It's not a joke!" Dory sputtered, quickly covering her hand over her mouth.

Richie's smirk slowly fell until his expression was stone cold, looking us up and down before settling on my face. "Was this your idea?"

"No," I said quietly.

"Don't lie to me, Mikayla. You remember what happened the last time," he hissed, taking a step forward.

"They're capable of thinking for themselves," I retorted, insulted on their behalf that he'd think they weren't intelligent enough to think over this situation on their own. "Believe it or not, nobody wants to work for a scumbag."

"What did you call me?" Another step towards me, glaring in my direction. "After everything I've done for you -- all of you -- this is how you repay me?"

"What about everything you've done to us?" Daphne interjected, Richie's head jerking in her direction. "We trusted you and you turned us into prostitutes for your own gain."

"Turned you into them? As I recall, you were one way before you came to me, sweetheart," Richie remarked, stepping over towards her. "Or don't you remember the sob story you told me when you first showed up at my doorstep? You were nothing but a sniveling coke addict until I made you into what you are today."

Daphne was resisting the urge to throw a right hook across his jaw, evident in the way her hand balled into a fist at her side. When she was brought to this country, she'd been sold into sex trafficking at a young age. She didn't choose that life, she was forced into it. For Richie to use that against her was one of the lowest blows he could use.

"And you." His attention shifted to Dory now. "You wanted to, didn't you? You loved it. Always so eager and willing to please everyone, especially me. Did you ever tell your friends about that? About how you left your boyfriend -- what was his name again? Mason? -- how you left him because you wanted to work for me so badly that you would do anything I asked. _Anything_."

Dory was silent, looking down at the ground instead of into his eyes. Dory had briefly mentioned Mason a few times, almost always with a sad and nostalgic look on her face, but she'd never gotten into why they had broken up. Had Richie forced her to leave him the same way he'd punished me for being with Harry?

"Then there's you. You wanted to work for me so badly, you were willing to lie about your age." Richie reached up to twirl a loose curl around his finger. "I knew the minute you walked in here how vulnerable and desperate you were. That's why I took you under my wing. I molded you into my perfect little play thing and you went with it every step of the way because you wanted to be a star. You were my star. Then you threw that all away for some... Ratty-looking punk. A married one, no less. You really do have poor taste, don't you?"

"Don't you dare talk about him like that," I warned, eyes narrowed.

"Or what?" Richie challenged.

"I'll... I'll..." I was at a loss.

"I'll... I'll..." Richie mimicked me, my frustration at the situation only intensifying. "You'll do nothing because you never do. Nobody is leaving this club. Ever."

"You can't keep us here!" Dory exclaimed, the crease in her brows heavily defined. "We don't want to work for you anymore, you creep!"

"Too fucking bad!" Richie roared, his hand shooting up and wrapping around Dory's throat tightly. "Is that any way to speak to your boss?"

"Let go of me," she choked out, clawing at his hand.

I moved as quickly as I could, grabbing onto his arm and trying to pull him away from Dory without hurting her, but his grip only tightened. He forced me off of him, causing me to stumble backward into the door where he reached out with his other hand to do the same to me.

I was petrified, the flood of memories rushing back and throwing me into a state of catatonic shock. My head was ringing with the force that it had collided with the door and I was almost certain I’d have a concussion or something to show for it. I couldn't move or breathe, the only thing I could see in my hazy vision was Richie's face, red with fury.

"You belong to me. Every single one of you," he growled low in his throat.

With the force he had on my windpipe, I was starting to feel the lack of air taking its effect, my head feeling light. Suddenly, a rush of air filled my lungs and I sputtered out a few coughs as I tried to figure out what had made Richie let us go.

Richie was sprawled out on the ground, Daphne's fists pummeling into his face over and over again. She was shouting something down at him between each hit, but it wasn't until the last few punches that I could make it out.

"Don't. Hurt. My. Friends."

When she was certain he was no longer conscious, Daphne stood over his body, examining her bloody knuckles and taking in deep breaths before looking over towards the two of us. "Are you okay?"

Nodding slowly, I looked down at Richie for a moment before looking to her. "You saved us."

"You've both saved me more times than I can count. I wasn't going to let him hurt you," she replied quietly.

"Daphy, you're hurt." Dory quickly moved over towards her and took her hands, quickly pulling off her scarf to wrap around her knuckles.

"It's fine, Dor. I've had worse in the ring," she reassured the girl, allowing her to do what she wanted with her hands. "Guess all that underground fighting paid off finally, huh?"

It wasn't like Daphne to make light of a situation, but I think she could tell we needed it in that moment. She moved closer to me and pulled us both in for a hug, pressing a kiss to the tops of both of our heads.

“I love you guys,” she murmured, holding us close. That was the first time I’d ever heard those words come from her.

The sound of sirens outside pulled us apart from each other and before we knew it, the place was swarmed with police and paramedics. The patrons and dancers on shift were being questioned, evidence was being gathered throughout the club, and Richie had been carted off in an ambulance in handcuffs. Shaina had called the police when she had gotten what she needed on tape. It seemed like Richie’s need to remind us of what he’d done for us was his downfall, in the end.

Daphne was beside me with her knuckles wrapped in gauze and bandages, Dory never leaving either of our sides, even when they asked to question her. I was sitting at the back end of another ambulance getting examined for my head when we saw Olivia approach the building.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. This is an active crime scene, you can’t come in here,” an officer said, stopping her just before she ducked beneath the yellow line.

“Officer, I work here -- these are my girls, please let me see them and make sure they’re alright,” she tried to reason with him.

“It’s true,” I called out, wincing a bit at my own voice. “Please. I want to see her.”

The cop hesitated before stepping out of the way and holding the tape up for her. Olivia slipped underneath and immediately made her way over to us, motherly instinct taking over. “What in God’s name happened here?”

“We tried to quit,” Dory started, looking over towards us. “He wouldn’t let me and Daphy leave, then he tried to hurt me and Mikki so Daphy beat him up.”

“It felt really good to finally deck him,” Daphne admitted with a soft smile.

“How did the cops know about this?”

I carefully lifted my shirt and revealed the small microphone attached to my bra, giving her a faint smile. “My sister’s idea. She let them know when things got serious.”

“Okay, detective. You didn’t tell us you had that on,” Daphne commented, looking at me with a raised brow.

“I didn’t think it was important,” I responded, half-lying about my motives in keeping it to myself. “I just wanted to get something incriminating on tape, so he wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else ever again.”

“You three could’ve gotten seriously hurt, or worse,” Olivia scolded, reaching her hands up to touch our faces gently. She let out a sigh as she looked towards the club, lips pursed. “Well, I guess that means I should start letting the girls know they don’t need to come in tonight… Or ever again, for that matter.”

“Does this mean everyone’s out of a job?” Dory asked with a small frown, wrapping her coat around herself tighter.

“Probably,” she responded, looking over towards them. “The club will be closed for as long as the police need it to gather… Whatever evidence they need. The girls can’t wait around while that happens and they’ll find somewhere else. Not to mention the matter of finding someone new to run the place and--”

“Why don’t you do it?” Dory suggested, catching Olivia off guard.

“What?”

“Yeah, why don’t you?” Daphne asked. “You practically ran the place before. Everybody loves you and you actually care about everyone. It’d be a good fit.”

“I don’t know.” Olivia frowned. “This isn’t exactly good for business.”

“Maybe not, but I know you,” I started, reaching out to take her hands in my own. “You could bring life to anything if you wanted to. It’s your decision, but know that we would have your back one hundred percent if you decided to go through with it.”

“You could even hire me for security,” Daphne chuckled.

Olivia stayed quiet, looking between the three of us as if she were considering the offer. After a few moments, she sighed, giving my hands a squeeze. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Really?!” Dory asked, face lighting up at the news.

“I can’t let my girls down,” Olivia replied, smile growing onto her face. I stood and pulled her into a hug, which the others joined in on quickly. For the first time in a long time, the club finally meant something else to me: hope.

Shaina turned over the recording to the police and once we were questioned and examined, we were free to leave. The paramedics said I had a mild concussion and made sure I wasn’t showing any symptoms before I left, but they were sure to give me a list of symptoms and instructions on how to handle them if they came back later.

I arrived home closer to 10 pm and when I opened the door, the first thing I saw was a frantic Harry seated at the kitchen table, mug of tea in hand and fingers tapping against the ceramic surface. He looked up when he noticed movement and bolted from the chair as soon as he saw me, pulling me into his arms.

“What took you so long? I kept texting and calling, but you wouldn’t answer,” he explained quietly, pulling away to examine me. “Are you alright? He didn’t hurt you, did he? I’m going to kill him if he laid a hand on you.”

“He did, but I’m fine. Daphne took care of him,” I reassured him, fingertips grazing over the yellowing skin on my neck that was sure to turn into a bruise.

Harry looked where my fingers touched and a frown took over his face. He reached up to take my hand carefully and pressed his lips repeatedly to my knuckles in gentle kisses. “Please don’t do anything like that again.” He pulled me into his embrace once more. “I just got you back. I can’t lose you again.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered, nuzzling my nose into the crook of his neck, my arms wrapped around his shoulders. “It’s all over now.”

Harry refused to leave my side all night and barely let me do anything for myself when he found out about the concussion. He sent me to bed and brought me my own cup of tea before settling in, and we watched some silly cartoon he’d been watching with Delilah before she’d fallen asleep. I didn’t pay much attention to it, but it was nice to have him holding me close and taking care of me, despite everything that had happened.

Even though I knew I’d worried him sick, I didn’t regret my decision to go. I had done all of this so I could have closure on that chapter of my life. I needed it so that I could be fully invested in this one that was being written, with my friends and family, with him and our daughter. With Richie inevitably being put away, I could be with Harry completely and with abandon.

I could finally have the love I deserved from the start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo this took a lot longer than I expected and I apologize for that. Life's been kind of hectic with school and work, plus I've just been feeling kind of blah lately. Thank you guys for always being patient and understanding. Hopefully it was worth the wait.


	27. That Old Feeling

A couple of weeks had passed since the scene at the club. Things had returned back to normal, for the most part. Daphne was working with Gemma at the hair salon a few days a week and Dory was working as a temporary receptionist for the tattoo shop downstairs while they waited for things to straighten back up under Olivia’s leadership.

Harry continued to tell me how much smoothly things were running now that he and Niall no longer had to run back and forth between the phone and the clients, which I think was his way of trying to get me to convince Dory to stay on longer. I wouldn’t have minded it. Having one of your best friends working so close by would make for a little more excitement out of the day.

Setting a bowl down onto the kitchen table in front of me, Harry took his seat with his own, sliding his spoon into the contents. “Here you go. Deliciously prepared bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, milk extra cold -- just the way you like it.”

“You’re a dork, you know that?” I chuckled, shaking my head before taking the first bite. “I could’ve made something. It’s really not that much work.”

“You could’ve, but I’d rather you keep relaxing until I know for sure you don’t go burning yourself while making eggs or anything,” Harry explained, popping the spoon into his mouth.

“Then I hope you’re prepared to spend a lot of your tip money on pizza and Indian food,” I said, finally taking a bite, though my focus on him seemed to waver.

I think he noticed, since he leaned back into my line of sight to catch my attention before speaking again. “You sure you’re alright? You’ve seemed distracted as of late.”

“Have I?” I asked, brows furrowed.

“A bit, yeah.” He swallowed his mouthful of food. “Does this have anything to do with the party?”

“Maybe,” I spoke, biting my lip. “I know I shouldn’t be this worried over a one year old’s birthday party. I just want it to be perfect.”

“It will be,” Harry assured me, reaching one hand across the table to take mine and giving it a squeeze. “That last idea you came up with, the one you told me about the other day? That seems like it’d be the best one to go with. Keep it simple. Besides, who doesn’t love free food?”

“Do you think they’ll go for it?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Harry asked, food tucked away into his cheek.

“Oh, I don’t know. Probably something to do with the fact that my parents haven’t spoken to each other since before I was born,” I responded, giving him a pointed look.

With a pause, Harry nodded slowly. “Right. You make a good point.”

With a sigh, I stood to set my bowl into the sink, my appetite having disappeared all together. I didn’t realize how stressful it would be trying to plan a get together with the entire family until I actually started to think everything over. Harry and I had been throwing some ideas back and forth on what to do the past few weeks, but nothing seemed to stick. Maybe it was just the pessimist in me that kept finding all of the negatives about a scenario every time we’d come up with one.

Mom was starting to feel better. Slowly, but surely. Her treatment was progressing well from what the doctors said. She had been going in for chemo treatments since the end of January, once we’d gotten our financial situation figured out. I assured her that I would take care of it. Of course, she’d protested at first, but I told her that I wasn’t going to let her handle it alone. Chester helped too, though I kept that fact a secret from mom. I knew she wouldn’t have been okay with it, but it was for the best.

Even though she had a few more months to go, I could tell that things were working. Having gone through this with her before, I knew how the chemo would affect her. She was tired, but she didn’t let that ruin her spirit. She always insisted on seeing me and Delilah daily, even after days where the chemo took a bigger toll on her than usual. She didn’t want to miss a day with us, she told me. I wasn’t going to be the one to keep that from happening.

“After I slaved away over a hot stove to make you that.” Harry’s voice broke me from my thoughts, his joking tone causing me to laugh a bit. I looked up in time to see him reaching around me to set his empty bowl into the sink. “You’ll sort something out. You always do.”

“Not always,” I replied, glancing over towards him with a faint smile.

“Not with that attitude,” he retorted, seeming offended at the lack of faith I had in myself. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to my cheek. “They both love you and Delilah, right? If they’ll come together for anything, it’ll be you two. Just ask if they’d be up for it and see what happens, yeah?”

Harry had a point. If I didn’t even try to ask, then how would I know for sure they wouldn’t want to go? At least if I asked and they said no, I could say that I did my part.

“I’ll do that,” I responded with a nod and a smile. “Thanks, babe.”

“Pleasure,” he chuckled, tipping my chin up with his finger and bringing his lips to mine. “I’ve gotta go to work. Give Delilah my love.”

“You know I will. Tell Dory she should come up for lunch.”

“And steal all your attention away from me? Never.” With a grin, Harry gathered his things and made his way out the door, giving one final wave before he was gone for the day.

Once he was gone, I allowed my smile to fall slowly. I bit my lip, allowing myself time to think in the quiet time before the nearly one year old in the other room woke up.

Chester wouldn’t have any problem with being in the same room as mom. She, on the other hand, would take some convincing. How I would do that though was beyond me. I didn’t want to completely blindside her with it by not telling her at all, but I also didn’t want to make her feel like it was her only option.

She knew that Chester was back in my life, so maybe she would expect it by now. I tried not to bring him up often, but she had been willing to come down for Christmas when she knew he’d be there. Maybe I was overthinking it all at this point.

I grabbed my phone after checking the time and dialled mom’s number, knowing she’d more than likely be up. It only took two rings before she answered.

“Hey, monkey,” she greeted. She sounded exhausted.

“Hi, momma. Did I wake you?”

“No, I was up. Making myself some tea right now,” she explained, a relieved sigh falling from me. “Is everything alright? You don’t usually call this early.”

“Everything’s fine. Harry and I were just talking about what we wanted to do for Delilah’s birthday.” I paused, hoping for a reaction.

“Oh? Did you come up with any ideas?”

“We did,” I responded slowly. “We were thinking about doing a dinner with the family and a few close friends. Just a small get together, nothing overly festive.”

“And you’re calling because you want to know if I’ll be alright with your father being there.”

Was I that predictable?

“Maybe something to that effect?” I chuckled low. “I just don’t want to make things uncomfortable for you, especially with everything else you’re going through right now.”

“My hair’s already falling out, it’s not like his presence could make that any worse,” she joked, though I found it hard to laugh along. She must’ve noticed my silence. “Mikayla, I’m joking. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t tell you I was if I wasn’t. We’re both adults; I can conduct myself accordingly around him,” she explained.

I let out another sigh of relief at the news. That took a huge weight off my shoulders.

“Thank you, momma.”

“Anything for you, mija. When is the dinner?”

I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I have to make reservations, but we’re shooting for this weekend. Saturday night would probably be easier than Sunday, right?”

“See what you can get. I’ll be there either way.” I could hear the smile in her voice.

“Okay,” I responded, smiling slowly as well. “I’ll get back to you soon. Rest up, momma.”

“You too, monkey.”

Ending the call, I felt a sense of relief. If mom wasn’t okay with the situation, she would at least be willing to handle it for one night. That was more than I could have hoped, considering the circumstances. Now it was a matter of getting the plans situated and making sure Chester would be there too.

It took a few more calls and Chester pulling a few strings -- I was grateful he had friends in high places -- but by the end of the week, everything was in place. That didn’t keep me from stressing out that something would go wrong tonight.

“What if they start arguing?” I asked while pacing around our bedroom, trying to figure out where I’d placed the earrings I wanted to wear. “What if something one of them says just strikes a nerve?”

“Are you expecting a lot of controversial topics to come up at a one year old’s birthday dinner?” Harry asked, adjusting the cuffs of his button down shirt, all the while watching me run around like a chicken with my head cut off.

“No, but you can never be too sure,” I sighed, stopping to look at him. “I’m just worried.”

“I can see that,” he chuckled, grabbing two things off the top of the dresser and walking towards me. “Here, before you burn a hole into the floorboards.”

Reaching out, he dropped the small earring box into my hands and I scrunched up my nose. “Thank you. I don’t know where my head is tonight.”

“S’alright, love.” Walking behind me, he opened up the other box. “Pull your hair up for me?”

I did as requested, though I was unsure why until I felt cool metal against my skin as he placed a piece of jewelry around my neck. I looked down to see a tear-shaped diamond at the end of a golden chain resting on my chest.

I placed my fingers gently against it, looking towards him once he’d closed the clasp behind my neck. “What’s this for?”

“I realised we’ve known each other for three years this past February. Hasn’t always been the easiest, but thought it deserved some recognition,” he offered with a soft smile, brushing my bangs from my face. “Besides, it’ll go with almost anything. That’s what the saleswoman said when I bought it, anyway,” he chuckled.

My smile grew, the gem still beneath my fingertips as I looked down to it again. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“No need. C’mon, we don’t wanna be late.” He pecked a kiss to my forehead, grabbing his suit jacket off of the edge of the bed.

“The birthday girl’s allowed to be fashionably late to her own party, don’t you know that?” I teased, putting my earrings in and heading out of the room to see Delilah still seated on her playmat in the living room with her doll and some blocks strewn about.

“You ready to be the center of attention for the night, angel?” Harry asked her as he picked her up, fingers tickling her belly and bringing forth a giggle.

“Dada! Dada dada,” Delilah cheered, clapping her hands together.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Harry chuckled. “Let’s get going.”

Grabbing the diaper bag and my purse, we made our way to the car outside where Chester, Shaina, and Miles were waiting for us. Once at the restaurant, we were escorted to the private room in the back where they said guests had already arrived. Inside, Eden was dancing with Dory to the music playing off of someone’s phone and everyone else was seated around the table, talking and enjoying the appetizers that were set out on a buffet table along the opposite wall.

There were two faces that I didn’t recognize immediately, but recalling the description that Daphne had given when she first started to bring him up, I was able to piece together that the lanky brunette seated beside her was Dominic. He had his arm draped around the back of her chair, Daphne shyly smiling in his direction as he regaled everyone with a story. I couldn’t help the grin that rose to my face at the sight. I’d have to learn the story behind this one. I tried to figure out the other unfamiliar face, but Dory’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

“They’re here!” Dory cheered, catching everyone’s attention. “Birthday girl is here!”

“She iiis,” I cooed, looking to Delilah who was still held in Harry’s arms. “Sorry we’re a little late. Traffic and all that.”

“All that being her taking forever to get dressed,” Harry chuckled, receiving a playful glare from me. He set Delilah down carefully onto her feet, kneeling down beside her. “Wanna go play with your friend?”

Delilah waddled off towards Eden, the sight of the two girls giggling the older teaching the younger to dance making my heart swell. “God, they’re so adorable.”

“Almost makes you wanna have another one, doesn’t it?” Harry joked, arm wrapped around my shoulders and giving me a light squeeze.

I looked up towards him and before I could address his statement, I noticed Chester eyes lingering on the table. I followed his gaze to see my mother seated beside Olivia, though she seemed to have looked away only moments before I’d caught her.

“We’ll discuss this later,” I informed Harry, poking his chest lightly. Stepping out from his side, I walked around him to Chester, nudging him gently with my elbow. “You okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes. I’m alright. It’s been awhile, that’s all.”

His explanation was vague and though I knew that he was referring to, I wondered what had changed since they’d last seen each other. They were both so young, it was no doubt that the stories of the past 24 years had been etched into their skin since then. They’d both been through so much. I’m sure neither of them expected to be in each other’s presence again.

“You should talk to her,” I finally said after a moment of silence, reaching up to rest my hand against his arm. “At least say hi.”

“I doubt she’d want to speak with me,” he chuckled, looking down at me and smiling that warm smile I rarely saw him without. “I’ll leave it to her terms. In the meantime, those bacon-wrapped dates are calling my name.”

He made his way to the food table, leaving me there to heave a sigh. What would it take for them to at least acknowledge one another’s existence? Getting them in the same room was a big step, but I selfishly wanted more.

“You’re going to stress yourself out with all that worrying.” Gemma’s voice in my ear caught me off guard and I jumped, turning to face her as she laughed. “Sorry, sorry! I couldn’t resist.”

“You’re terrible,” I sighed, placing my hand over my heart. “Did you just get here?”

“Yeah, the salon closed late and I wasn’t about to show up here without a shower,” she explained. “Niall’s bringing in the present now. I’m gonna warn you, it’s huge. Wasn’t my idea.”

“You two are going to spoil her rotten,” I remarked, watching as Niall carried a gigantic stuffed teddy bear into the room, his arms barely making it around the middle.

“Where should I put this?” He asked, turning so he could see the both of us, grin plastered onto his face. “Hey Mik!”

“You’re in trouble,” I teased, pointing my finger at him before motioning to a small table where a few other gifts were placed. “Over there should be fine.”

“Good cos my arms are gonna fall off soon,” he laughed, walking off to dispose of the gift.

Now that everyone had arrived, the main dish was brought out. Everyone was seated around the table and though mom and Chester weren’t beside each other, he was positioned across from her, so at least they wouldn’t be able to avoid each other for long. I wish that I could say I had planned it that way, but with everybody having a plus one aside from the two of them and Shaina, it made for a fateful seating arrangement.

“I’d like to say something before we all get started, if that’s alright,” I spoke, standing from my seat and smoothing out my blue dress. “I’ll keep it short, I promise. First, I’d like to thank everyone for coming on such short notice. Anybody who knows me knows that I’m not typically the greatest with that sort of thing,” I chuckled, the room following along. “Tonight means a lot to me for many reasons, the main reason being my little girl is officially a year old. She can do so many things and there are things she thinks she can do but can’t. She’s learning a few words here and there, she’s walking. Before we know it, she’ll be in school and we won’t he able to get her to stop talking. But the most important thing to me about this past year, the last few months especially, is to see all of the love she’s received from everyone in this room. You’re all our family; if not by blood, then by heart. We may not always get along or see eye to eye, but… One thing that I’ve learned is that it’s never too late for reconciliation. It doesn’t mean that there’s any love lost there.”

I looked around the table, my eyes lingering on mom and Chester. At my last few words, I noticed their gazes meet as they turned their heads towards each other. I tried to resist reacting in an obvious way, but the smile on my face softened at the sight.

“I can’t thank you all enough for being here for her and for us. To many more years ahead, filled with love, laughter, joy, and so much more.”

Everyone raised their glasses before they began to dig in. I took my seat again and looked towards Harry who was beaming at me, leaning around Delilah’s high chair to kiss my cheek. “Think you may’ve struck a cord.”

“That was the plan,” I responded softly, giving him a gentle peck on the lips. “Now we see what happens.”

“You’re only trying to get them to talk, right?” Harry asked suspiciously, brow raised.

“Yeah,” I responded with a small shrug. “But… if something more came of it, I wouldn’t mind that either.”

“I wouldn’t expect too much, love,” he said, small frown turning the edges his lips downward. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

I gave him a small nod and a smile. “I know. A girl can dream.”

The party went about as well as I could have hoped. Everybody was having a great time chatting over food, multiple conversations going on and people relating to one another. Towards the end of the evening, the tables were moved out of the way to make space for a makeshift dance floor, Harry’s phone was hooked up to the PA system, and everyone was dancing to a variety of tunes ranging from the likes of Fleetwood Mac and The Beatles to Beyonce and Augustana.

I got the chance to meet Dominic and go to learn about how he and Daphne met, that the two had gone on a few dates, but they were taking things one day at a time. I also met Mason -- the blond man I didn’t recognize who had come along with Dory -- and found out that the two had reconnected after the day Richie got arrested. Knowing that the experience had brought them all together warmed my heart. I only wanted them to be happy and now they were well on their way.

The music slowed down and as a saxophone began its soothing melody through the speakers, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Harry smiling back at me, his hand outstretched towards me. “May I have this dance?”

“You may,” I chuckled, placing my hand in his.

I followed him towards an empty space on the dance floor where he pulled me in, free hand resting on the small of my back as we began to sway to the music. It had been a long time since I had danced like this, the last time that came to mind being the wedding. Being like this again with him, it brought back a nostalgic feeling.

“Who sings this?” I wondered aloud, glancing up towards him.

“Frank Sinatra,” Harry began, smiling. “Called ‘That Old Feeling’. Reminds me of us a bit. The renewing of old love and all that.”

“It’s a nice song,” I replied, resting my head down onto his shoulder.

As I did, I noticed mom sitting at the table, but she wasn’t alone. Chester sat in the chair beside her and though I couldn’t hear a word they were saying, there was a soft smile on their faces the whole time.

“Harry…” I spoke, lifting my head up again. “Harry, look.”

Harry turned his head to where I was watching and our swaying slowed to a halt. “Looks like you got your wish.”

“They’re really talking.” I was in disbelief. I had expected them to be cordial with each other, but to see them going out of their way to converse, even if the conversation turned out to be about nothing, it was more than I could have hoped.

“Don’t rush things, okay?” Harry’s voice brought me back, my attention turning to him. “Whatever happens there, let it happen ‘cos of them. They need to work things out on their own, like we did.”

I knew he was right. I couldn’t force them to do anything they didn’t want to do. I had to let it happen naturally, and that’s exactly what I was going to do. My broken family, what started out as just me and my mom, was finally becoming whole again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay on the update, guys! Things have been crazy, but I feel like you should know that by now with how spaced out the updates have been. The story's coming to an end soon and part of the reason it's been hard to update regularly is that it feels strange wrapping up the story I've spent most of the year writing.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and I'd love to know what you all think!


	28. Night Changes

If you had asked me where I saw myself two years ago, never would I have thought that I’d be where I am today. I had disillusioned myself into believing that I would never be more than what I had amounted to at the age of 21, waitressing by day and stripping at night in order to make ends meet. Never did I think I’d have moved out of the apartment I’d grown up in, that I would have started a family, or that I would discover who my father was let alone reconnect with him. Life seemed to be moving so fast these days, but I loved every second of it.

Mom was finished with chemo and had been declared in remission just before the end of summer. To celebrate, we took her down to my old stomping grounds in Myrtle Beach for vacation somewhere she’d always wanted to go. We had always talked about going to the beach when I was younger, a dream trip that she’d promised 7 year old me when all of my friends in first grade were talking about what they were going to do over the summer break. Now I got to make the dream come true for the both of us, with Harry, Delilah, Shaina, and Chester in tow.

It had taken some convincing to get Chester to agree to come along. He was so wrapped up in his work at all times that Shaina and I were beginning to worry he would work himself into an early grave. I could tell mom was worried too, but she’d never openly admit to it.

Since the party, the two had talked almost every day. He would stop in and visit during her treatments when I couldn’t be there so she wasn’t alone. After awhile, he suggested she stay at his place since it was closer to the hospital and she’d at least have Loretta around to assist her so she wouldn’t be alone.

Admittedly, the trip was a combination of a few things. Along with celebrating mom’s recovery, I’d finally worked up the nerve to search out an editor during the past few months to look over my manuscript. Though the process was slow going, it was encouraging to know that there was someone who believed in the story I wanted to tell enough to invest their time in it.

Though the main reason for the trip was picking up the last of my things. I’d left in a hurry when I found out she was in the hospital so many months ago, leaving most of mine and Delilah’s belongings behind. I hadn’t had a chance to run back down to get my things with everything that had happened, but Owen had been making sure nobody broke in while we were away. Seeing him was another reason for wanting to travel back down, and Shaina’s for tagging along.

It had felt almost incomplete, living in the apartment without most of my things. Harry insisted that he could pick up some of the things I owned at the store until we could get them back, but there were some things that money couldn’t buy back and I didn’t want to waste what little he already brought into the household. I wanted to have my belongings to help make it feel like home for me, and I wanted to feel like we were finally fully committed to living with one another. I needed that sense of closure.

“Mikayla.” I felt someone lightly rocking my arm, the touch enough to rouse me from sleep, and I opened my eyes to see Harry warmly smiling down at me with tousled curls framing his face. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?” I yawned, balled fists rubbing the sleepiness from my eyes.

“Nearly 11 in the morning,” he commented, and I pulled my hands away just in time to see him turn away from the clock on the bedside table. “Your mum and Delilah have gone out with the lovebirds for the day, so I wanted to let you sleep.”

“Lovebirds? Do you mean Owen and Shaina?” I asked and he nodded in return, tucking hair behind my ear. “It’s almost 11? That’s so late,” I mumbled with a frown. “I can’t remember the last time I slept in this late.”

“It’s been awhile,” he chuckled, leaning in to place a kiss to her temple. “That’s why you deserved a good sleep.”

“You’re being awfully affectionate this morning,” I said, feeling his hand settle on my side and thumb caress the skin beneath it. “What are you up to?”

“I’m hurt you’d think I’m up to something. Can’t I show my girlfriend how much I love and appreciate her without there being an ulterior motive?” He asked with a small scoff, turning his head and jutting out his bottom lip in a pout.

“You could, but then I’d have to make sure you weren’t sick,” I teased, reaching up to push his lip back in.

“You’re terrible to me, y’know that? I’m gonna tell my mum on you.”

“She loves me, she wouldn’t believe you,” I snickered, shifting so I could prop myself up onto my elbows. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Well, I _was_ going to make you crepes with fruit and powdered sugar, but I think you’ve lost that privilege,” he mused, looking back towards me. His dimpled grin said otherwise.

“So, that means it’s already made and you want me to come eat, right?” I asked, mimicking his smile.

“Maybe. Suppose you’ll have to get out of bed and find out, won’t you?”

“What, no breakfast in bed? You’re slipping, Styles,” I teased, then tossed the covers off my legs. “I guess I can do that.”

“It’s much nicer to eat on the back patio than in bed,” he reminded me.

I slipped out of bed and grabbed my robe off the back of the bathroom door, slipping it over top of my pajamas. “Lead the way.”

Harry took my hand and led me to the kitchen, the aroma of fresh fruit hitting my nostrils almost the second we passed the threshold. The island in the kitchen was nearly full of different dishes, some filled with fruit, others with various preserves and toppings. At the end was a large stack of crepes, still slightly steaming from being made recently.

“How long did it take you to set this up?” I asked, glancing up towards him.

“Maybe an hour or two. I wasn’t keeping track,” he said with a shrug, looking to me and smiling. “Anything for my girl to feel special today.”

“Is today a special day?” I raised my brow. Normally, I was very good with dates, so I didn’t think I’d forgotten an anniversary of anything important.

“It is, but you can’t know why just yet.” Harry had a relaxed smile on his face, one that I hadn’t seen in so long. “Eat up, we’ve got a long and full day ahead of us.”

I had so many questions, but the rumbling in my stomach temporarily rearranged my priorities. Harry pulled out two plates and handed one to me, then we each piled our plates with rolled up crepes filled with all different toppings. We ate on the patio, the roar of the ocean replacing conversation whenever we were too busy chewing to talk.

“Have you brought anything nice to wear?” he asked out of nowhere, cheek stuffed with strawberry filling.

“Define nice,” I replied, taking a sip of water. “Because what I think is nice might not be considered nice to you.”

“Well, I think you look nice in everything, but I mostly meant like… posh nice. Evening wear?” Harry furrowed his brows as he tried to think of how to explain what he meant. “Something that you’d wear to a nice dinner out.”

“I think I have something,” I responded, though my words were slow as I studied his behavior. He was nervous, I could tell that much by the way he bit onto his lower lip and twirled the ring on his thumb. “I assume you’re taking me out to dinner then?”

“How’d you guess?” he laughed. “Yeah, I was hoping to get you out to a nice place. I’ve got a reservation already, but if you’d rather stay at home, then we ca--”

“No. You went out of your way to put that together, the least I can do is go to dinner. But it isn’t super expensive, right? I don’t want you spending too much.”

“Mikayla, it’s fine. I promise. Just… try not to think about that tonight, okay? I don’t want anything to mess this up.”

With the look in his eyes, I knew that Harry wanted nothing more than to make tonight as wonderful as he could. Why? I still wasn’t sure. I had a hunch, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up on the chance that I was getting ahead of myself.

After all, we had only been officially together for at most 6 months. In the grand scheme of things, that was barely anything. Still, there was a small part of me that wondered if the reason Harry was so nervous today was because he intended to take our relationship to the next step.

Extending my pinky finger out towards him with a soft smile, I nodded. “I promise that I won’t worry tonight.”

Harry smiled even more and reached out to loop his own finger around mine. “Good. Now hurry and eat up before everyone gets back and tries to steal it from us.”

Laughing, I did as he said and ate until I was full and content. I tried my best to keep my promise -- to not worry over anything today -- but the anticipation of the evening made the day go by so slowly that I was on the edge of breaking it. By the time it was time for me to get ready, I welcomed the distraction.

Shaina helped curl my hair and she pulled it so it was half up and half down, a hairstyle I hadn’t worn in a long time. When my hair was back, it emphasized the roundness of my face and I didn’t usually like it. Tonight it seemed fitting for some reason, though. Maybe because it reminded me of my youth, a time when I had fewer cares. That’s usually how Harry made me feel, like nothing could bring me down.

Before we’d left New York, I made sure that I had brought the red dress that I’d worn to the wedding. I wasn’t sure why I’d packed it at the time since I didn’t think there’d be an opportunity to wear it anywhere but the living room, but now I was glad that I did. The sundresses hanging in the closet just didn’t seem right for the occasion.

There was a knock on the door as I put my earrings in. “She’s almost ready, Harry.”

“It’s just me. He’s still trying to tie his tie.” I turned to see Owen pushing open the door and smiling in the doorway. “You look amazing.”

“Doesn’t she? I told her this look would work,” Shaina commented with a triumphant smirk.

“Thank you,” I responded with a small smile and a blush, looking to the mirror to see if I had missed anything. “I haven’t gotten to dress up in so long, I’m not really used to it.”

“Well, young lady, you’d better make the most of tonight, you hear me?” Owen playfully warned, pointer finger extended as if he were scolding me.

“My dad’s already here to give me that talk, Owen,” I laughed, shaking my head. “But I will, promise. Are you guys sure you don’t mind watching Delilah? We’ll try not to be too late.”

“We don’t mind at all. Besides, your mom and dad are out so it’s not like we have much of a choice,” Owen chuckled, hands in his pockets.

I looked over towards Shaina who had the faintest hint of a bittersweet a smile on her face. I wanted to show my excitement that my parents were working on rekindling whatever it was they’d had when they were younger, but I couldn’t imagine how she felt watching her dad move on from her mother.

Taking her hand, I gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you both. I’ve left some money on the counter for you to order food, if you want to. Delilah has some mashed food in the fridge. All you have to do is heat it up, but try to make sure it isn’t too hot though an--”

“We know, Mikki. Don’t worry, we’ve got it taken care of. Go have fun!” Shaina shooed me off, handing me my clutch and pushing me towards the door.

Laughing, I made my way from the room towards the foyer, making sure I had everything in my bag that I’d need. I looked up and saw Harry standing by the door, looking more cleaned up then I’d ever seen him. His hair was pulled back into a bun and he was decked out in a clean black suit, a red tie that matched my dress, and a white dress shirt. A smile lit up my face at the sight. He really wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted tonight to be special.

“I remember that dress… Very fondly,” Harry commented with a cheeky smirk, stepping over towards me and bringing my hand up to his lips. “You’re as gorgeous as ever.”

“I fill it out a bit more now, I think,” I responded, watching his lips connect with the back of my hand.

“I feel like I’m sending my daughter off to prom,” Owen choked out, pretending to be emotional over the two of them with his arm secure around Shaina’s shoulder. “Honey, we raised a beautiful young woman.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I replied, shaking my head then looking up to Harry. “You ready to go?”

“Whenever you are.” He smiled.

“I should say bye to Delilah…”

“Good lord,” Shaina sighed. “She’ll be here when you get back. Go already!”

Owen and Shaina pushed the two of us out of the front door and locked it behind us, leaving us standing out on the porch. Harry was on the verge of laughter, his lips tight and dimple deep in his cheek. “They were definitely eager to get rid of us.”

“Probably so they can make out or something,” I remarked, looking to Harry with a soft laugh of my own. “They haven’t left each other’s side since we got here. Any time I brought her up before, he always looked so smitten.”

“You really think…?” Harry’s question trailed off, looking back towards the door as if he’d finally pieced together the puzzle himself. “Oooh. That would make sense.”

“So,” I began, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” Shaking his head, he extended his arm out towards me. I looped my arm through his and allowed him to help me into the rental car. The whole drive I noticed the way he tapped his thumbs against the steering wheel, a nervous tick of his that he didn’t know I’d caught onto. I reached over and placed my hand on his leg, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“You alright?” I asked softly.

“Hmm?” He glanced towards me briefly before looking back at the street. “Yeah, I’m alright. Why?”

“You’ve been looking nervous all day,” I remarked, looking over his face.

“Have I?” He chuckled low. “I don’t mean to. It’s been awhile since we’ve been on a date, so I want to make sure you enjoy yourself.”

“Harry, I’ll love anything you put together because you spent time planning it. We could be going to eat pizza all dressed up and it’d be one of the best dates I’ve ever had,” I explained, my words laced with laughter.

“Well we are going for Italian, so you could get pizza if you really wanted,” he replied, then made a face. “Actually, they may be too posh to have pizza. If you don’t like the food, we’ll get pizza afterward, yeah?”

“Deal.”

Even if Harry still seemed slightly tense, the fact that he was able to joke around made me feel better. The more nervous he was, the more nervous it would make me, and I had promised that I wouldn’t be.

The restaurant was beautiful, the low hum of conversation and jazz music playing through the sleek white dining room. We were led to a table towards the back beside a wall that was lined with all different kinds of wines and Harry pulled out my seat for me, pushing it in once I’d sat down.

I tried not to focus on the prices of the food as I scanned the menu, but it seemed like the further I went, the higher the numbers went. I could see Harry glancing up over top of his menu towards me every now and then and he reached over to take my hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Get whatever you want,” he spoke slowly, making sure I heard every word. “Money’s no object tonight.”

“You can say that over and over, but I’m still going to think about it,” I admitted, looking to him with a faint smile.

“Don’t. I swear, we’ve got enough to treat ourselves for one night.” Smiling, he laced his fingers through mine for a moment, then moved to simply hold onto my fingers and caress them with his thumb. “What about some wine? Do you like red or white?”

“Depends what I’m getting.” Biting my lip, I glanced up to look over the wall for a few moments, taking inventory. “Maybe… Maybe a Reisling. Can’t go wrong with that.”

“Good choice, love.” Harry relayed the order to our waiter, his thumb grazing over my fingers slowly the whole time. He had always been the type that needed physical contact of some kind. I noticed it first when we were at his mom’s house, then again in London while we toured the city.

I was never the person who was fond of public displays of affection, but that changed when I met him. It started to make sense why someone would want to hold their partner's’ hand in public, why they’d be sitting so close together with their hand on their leg, or leaning their head on the other’s shoulder. Intimacy wasn’t only about how you made love behind closed doors and away from the world, but the little ways you still show your partner that you love them when the world is watching.

When I was with Harry, I always wanted to be near him. I wanted to touch him so I could feel the supple warmth of his skin and make sure that whatever we had wasn’t a beautiful dream that I would wake up from some day. Knowing what that love felt like changed me for the better.

Soon enough, the food was ordered and the menus were out of sight, which meant that the prices were out of mind and I could fully enjoy the remainder of the evening. Harry never once let go of my hand or allowed the smile to fall from his face. The way he looked across the table at me was almost intimidating and I felt my cheeks go rosy, averting my gaze away from his.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brows immediately furrowing in concern. “Did I say something?”

“No, you keep staring,” I said, light laugh falling past my lips as I glanced back up towards him. “It’s just… It’s different.”

“Different how?” Leaning forward, he brought my knuckles to his lips again and I watched every move.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” I replied, thinking for a moment. “You’ve got this intensity to you tonight and I’m starting to wonder if I’ve done something to make you a little more needy than usual?”

“Needy? Is that the best you can come up with, miss ‘I wrote a book’?” he chuckled.

“Okay, not needy. Doting. Is that better?”

“Much.” His smile grew. “I suppose you were right this morning, I am more affectionate than usual. You were also right to assume I had an ulterior motive for doing that.”

I looked at him, confused. I had made that comment jokingly, but now that he was admitting to something being different about today over other days, my heart began to race. “What are you talking about?”

Harry stood from his chair and slipped around to the side so he was stood in front of me, never releasing my hand. Then, he lowered himself down onto one knee. My heart pounding in my chest echoed in my ears. All eyes in the restaurant were on us now, but mine were only on him as he pulled a small box out of the inside pocket of his suit coat.

“I was going to save this for dessert, but I can’t wait any longer.” Opening the box revealed a simple silver band with three diamonds set into it, the middle one surrounded on either side by two smaller stones.

My mouth agape, I covered it with my free hand while I tried to process the scene before me. “Harry…”

“I tried to prepare some kind of soppy speech, but we both know that I’m not the writer here. I couldn’t ask you though, otherwise it’d spoil the surprise,” he chuckled. “I started on about how much I love you, but I know that you know that already. I also know that I’ve told you how I would care for you and Delilah for as long as you’d let me. My one hope is that I’ve been able to show you both of those things as well, and that you’ll allow me to continue to do that. I never thought that as a small boy from Holmes Chapel that I’d ever meet or fall in love with a girl from Brooklyn, but you had my heart from the moment we first met. I love you, Mikayla. It doesn’t have to be any time soon, but I can’t picture my life without you in it… Rather, I don’t want to have to picture it that way. Will you marry me?”

Speechless was the only way to describe it. My mind was lost for words and my eyes brimmed with tears the longer I stared at the ring seated snugly inside the box. After a moment of silence, I began to nod, the gesture growing in both speed and zealous.

“Of course,” I finally managed around the lump in my throat, a few tears dripping from the corners of my eyes as I laughed. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

The room erupted with applause and a few whistles of congratulations. Harry’s face was lit up with a grin. I can’t recall ever seeing him this happy. “I was starting to get a little worried there,” he replied with a soft chuckle of his own, slipping the ring out from the box. “May I?”

Taking my left hand, he slid the ring down my ring finger until it settled at the base, nestled securely between my pinky and middle fingers. I took a closer look at the ring, grinning from ear to ear. “This is so beautiful.”

“And to think you were worried about me spending a lot on dinner,” Harry remarked, watching me from his position still kneeling on the floor.

“Now I’m definitely going to worry about you spending a lot on dinner since you already spent so much on this ring!” I exclaimed, but despite my protests, there was nothing that could turn tonight into anything but spectacular.

I cradled his face in my hands before leaning in, our lips meeting as we kissed through our smiles. Maybe we were too young to be doing this. Maybe our relationship was still new in the eyes of others, but what we had now was built over two years. We had been given so many trials and tribulations already, but we made it through them all and we were stronger -- individually and together -- because of them.

I was never the girl who believed in forevers. I realized now it was because my forever was only just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand that's it! I'm so sorry it took ages to get out this final chapter, but bringing the story to a close was really hard for me because it took up so much of my life this year.
> 
> I want to thank you guys for everything. Without you all reading, voting, commenting, and loving these characters and their stories, this would not have been completed. Even though this is the end of this story, these characters won't ever really be gone. I may write little things here and there (if not on here, then they'll be on [my writing blog](http://makeshiftneverland.tumblr.com)) when inspiration hits, but I felt that what needed to be said now has been written.
> 
> With that, I'll probably be taking a short break from writing chaptered stories and focus on one-shots while I figure out what to write next. If any of you guys have any suggestions of things you'd like to see, feel free to let me know.


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